A Family That Fights
by AllThingsInsane
Summary: AU. Sequel to "Through Trial, and Error." Things have calmed down for Sam and Dean and their guardians in recent weeks. With everything so quiet and normal for a change, it has Dean worried that a storm is brewing that they can't see yet. When his worst fears end up coming true, what will they do?
1. Chapter 1

**A Family that Fights**

_From the ashes a fire shall be woken, _

_a light from the shadows shall spring; _

_renewed shall be blade that was broken, _

_the crownless again shall be king. _

-J.R.R Tolkien, _The Fellowship of the Ring_

* * *

_Prologue_

Fear is a fickle word—the name is synonymous with something bad happening—foreboding and ever present. Fear is something that strikes at the very core, the very essence of who we are as people, and no matter how many times we try to deny that we are afraid of something, it is almost impossible to escape from its clutches forever.

Something can happen in a single snap that can reverse all the stubbornness that dominated an earlier part of your personality, the part that would deny that such a thing as fear existed in the English vocabulary.

A job is lost, meaning tougher times financially.

A person that you once loved and cherished, can betray you, resulting in a fear of trust.

And perhaps the most pressing fear that many people, especially Dean Winchester and his family face nearly every single day of their lives, the fear of losing one another to the unseen evils in the world. Evil that they were unfortunate enough to realize, came from both the supernatural kind _and _the human side.

When they lived the kind of life that they did, they realized that the law would sometimes catch up to them since they didn't know enough to realize that what they were doing, was _good_. The lives they had saved as a result of risking their lives, too numerous to count.

Over the last six months, they had been dealt a series of blows that would have knocked anyone down, especially them. First was losing their beloved guardian Jim Murphy to a constant demon threat that only seemed to grow larger with each passing day, and then Caleb, Dean's beloved guardian and confidante, was arrested for a series of bogus charges that the prosecution had cooked up that had resulted in his stunning conviction of kidnapping a minor.

All of those unfortunate events had resulted in them doing something they _swore _they would never do: run. The decision had been made when Caleb had been sentenced to a lengthy prison term as a result of his conviction. Acting on a leap of faith, he had authorized for Bobby's friend to break him out and reunite him with the boys that he had adopted in his heart as his own flesh and blood.

The choice to live life on lam _didn't _come without its setbacks. The largest one being that Caleb couldn't go outside or expose himself in any way if he could help it. If he slipped up or the residents of the town they were staying in, realized who he was, they would tip off the police and their whole plan would go up in flames.

Though it might have been foolish to adopt this mindset, Caleb tried to keep things as normal and light as possible for the boys who were depending on that stability that they had known for most of their lives, but had been forced to abandon when they had decided to leave their town in Minnesota.

And above the fear that dominated a secret part of himself that he kept closed off from Sam and Dean, he also basked in the love that he and the boys and Bobby held for each other. This was a family that he hadn't ever thought possible he would have, but over the last eight, almost _nine _years, they had become a family, who while not always seeing eye to eye on certain issues, always resolved conflict and always loved one another.

It was that same love and devotion to the boys that had gotten Caleb in trouble in the first place when he had decided to run with them after losing custody of them, circumstances that he was still dealing with to that day.

The cops were still looking for them—still looking for an opening for which to grab him, and possibly Bobby for knowing his location and not giving him up. Despite the very real fear of that happening, he tried not to let it affect him day to day as he and Bobby traveled to the safe house, the one place that was well-concealed from the road, and where they wouldn't be detected, not unless someone happened to see them and reported them.

It was with that false sense of security that they settled into a somewhat shaky routine that revolved around safety and concealment from the authorities who sought to destroy them.

If only they could have known, could have had any warning that danger was lurking just around the corner...

* * *

_This is the sequel to "Through Trial, and Error."_


	2. Chapter 2

If there was one special hobby that Dean Winchester excelled at and _loved_ with a burning passion, it was training. It had been something he had done from the time he was seven or eight when he had unwittingly found out the truth about his family's secretive hunting legacy, and the truth about his parents' deaths, and the _real_ reason why his father had failed to return to he and his brother after going on an ill-fated trip to Alaska to hunt something he believed to be responsible (or hold answers) to the death of his mother.

When he had found out about the supernatural, and his family's deep involvement in that horrifying life, he had been scared out of his mind at the prospect of his family actually _finding_ and _fighting_ the monsters and all things that went bump in the night. It wasn't something that normal family's did for kicks, that was one thing he was sure of, but he had braved that world with tough, resistant shoulders and had learned everything there was to know about that life.

A big part of being integrated into the life, was possessing the mental and physical stamina needed to successfully fight off an enemy in the process of an attack. For that reason, he had spent the last several years actively involved in combat training that would test both his endurance _and_ his ability to think fast on his feet as he worked to solve the complicated puzzle of punches and kicks that came his way, as he tried to utilize the tools that he had been taught from a young age.

It was something that he loved, something that he was good at. It was an excellent way to blow off steam that resulted from the inevitable stressfulness of his life, and the incomparable feeling of doing something _right_, of knowing the moves that he was performing like the back of his own hand, was comforting to him.

His guardian, Caleb Rivers, had been his sole trainer and coach in all things supernatural since he had found out the unfortunate truth right before he and his family had made the move from Blue Earth to Steele County, where they had stayed right up until they had been forced to go on the run after Caleb had broken out of prison where he had been serving time for bogus charges the prosecution had cooked up.

Ever since Dean could remember _anything_, which went back a long way, he and Caleb had been lucky enough to share an incredible bond with each other that had been born out of a mutual love and respect for each other, and the fact that Caleb understood him better than anyone else, and could always reach that part of himself that he kept closed off from the rest of the world.

Even when he didn't feel like talking about a certain issue or denied himself the gift of feeling something _other_ than pride or happiness about something, Caleb would always (gently) force the issue and the two would end up having a serious heart to heart on whatever was eating away at Dean's mind.

It was vital to him—something that he _needed_—even on the days where he resisted it for whatever reason he had. That was why it had been so gut-wrenching for him during the times that Caleb had been locked in jail for whatever misconstrued offense the prosecution _thought_ he had done.

It was more than losing another guardian, someone to watch out and protect them. It was losing someone who was like a father to he and Sam in the place of their real one, and it was losing that crucial support that he had come to rely on during the hard times.

With the situation as dire as it was now, with them being on the run from the local law enforcement after Caleb had successfully staged a prison breakout with the help of one of Bobby's hunting friends, it was rare that they got the chance to truly let loose and kick their feet up and enjoy something again, for once. Being back at the safe house changed that a little bit for them. Instead of the constant state of alertness that they had to train themselves to be, they could be themselves again and have fun and focus on something _other_ than the strain and fear of running and being caught.

It was a fear that was never far from Dean's mind, the thought of the police finally finding out their location from a tip-off or even from their own cleverness, and busting in and arresting Bobby and Caleb. He knew what would happen if that were to happen again, and the implications weren't funny at all.

A foster home for he and Sam, with the distinct possibility of being separated once they got there, and probable prison terms for both Caleb and Bobby. Caleb, with the added charge of escape under his belt, and Bobby, with the offense of aiding and abetting a criminal.

The only hope they would have of the charges either going away entirely, which was unlikely, or getting reduced sentences thrown their way, would be Caleb's friend and attorney, Dawn. In the past, she had managed to score miraculous acquittals for her client, and when his conviction for kidnapping had happened, she had campaigned for the judge to give him a lighter sentence, and he had listened in the end, though it hadn't been the outcome that Caleb had wanted when he had been handed a heartbreaking two year prison term, versus the probation that he and Dawn had both been seeking.

Either way, the idea of something happening to either Caleb _or_ Bobby, was deeply upsetting for Dean to imagine so he tried _not_ to as he tried to refocus his mind on the intense workout that he and Caleb had been engaging in the for the past half hour.

It wasn't often that he graduated to a new stage in his training, with Caleb wanting to make sure that he wasn't pushing his body beyond its limits, but when he finally _did_ progress further, it was a delight when he realized that he would be entrusted with performing tougher defense moves, and possibly being allowed greater responsibility when it came to the types of hunts that he could go on.

Up until that point, he had been allowed on most of the more complicated spirit hunts that Caleb and Bobby went on, but his guardians had drawn the line when it had come to involving him in anything else that involved the various demons and creatures that they hunted.

If it was something relatively harmless, the odds were good that he would be allowed to do something to get his hands dirty in the situation, and distract himself from the more pressing issues that were assaulting other areas of his life.

This day, he was distracted as he tried to put his posture in the correct stance that Caleb had long ago taught him, but it was hard to remember it all when his mind was so far removed from the exercise, and on to the very real fear of something happening.

It had been quiet for awhile. Things had calmed down to the point where they could almost forget that Caleb had a bounty over his head, and could face more extreme punishment if he was apprehended. It was that false sense of security that was making Dean antsy as he tried to center his mind on something that should have provided the mental escape that he was craving.

It was a combination of all the things that had gone wrong in their lives recently. The calmness that they were now enjoying, seemed too safe, it seemed too perfect, and that was what was making Dean nervous as he shook his head, trying to recenter his mind as he aimed another punch at his target, Caleb, and when he failed to bring about the desired effect that they were both looking for, he sighed in frustration at his own perceived incompetence.

"Okay, time out," Caleb said, signaling with his hands that they needed to stop and take a breather so that Dean could air out all his problems, and what was keeping him from performing at the level that they were both used to. "What's up?" he asked, as he walked over and took a seat on the loveseat sofa that was positioned in the corner of the room.

"Nothing..." Dean said, trailing off as he tried to figure out the best way with which to approach his issues from. "Just...I don't know."

"Well," Caleb said, as he stretched his arm out over the back of the couch. "Just spit it out. It's just you and me, dude."

And Dean knew that. If there was _anyone_ he felt comfortable divulging all of his secrets to, it was Caleb. The two had always been able to discuss current problems they were having, and even though it was upsetting to discuss some of the more personal things associated with their life, he knew that Caleb would understand better than almost anyone.

"I just feel jumpy is all," Dean explained, as he drew his knees up close to his chest.

"About what?" Caleb asked gently, as he dipped his head low to capture Dean's reluctant gaze that he was unwilling to share with him in that instant.

Even though Dean was normally very comfortable sharing things with him that he wouldn't confide in with anyone else, there were still things that he kept under a tight lock and key, especially if it was something that was really nagging at his mind.

In the situation that they were in, Caleb knew it could be any number of things, and he was anxious to see if he could get Dean back to a healthier frame of mind regardless of whether they ended up finishing the workout or not.

"About _everything_," Dean said with a scoff, as he finally braved looking Caleb in the face. "You know, it's been quiet recently, no jobs and no cops breathing down our necks. It just feels like _something_ is coming, and I can't stand that feeling."

In the last six months to a year, he had gone through the worst kind of hell imaginable with losing Jim to the YED, and then going through Caleb's catastrophic arrest for abuse and kidnapping charges, and then him being sentenced to do hard time.

With everything going somewhat smoothly after Caleb's escape and eventually settling down at the safe house, it felt like the calm before the storm, and even though Dean wanted to believe that things could be okay and normal again, he knew better than to rely on any of that as fact.

"What kind of feeling?" Caleb asked softly.

"This nervous feeling in my gut. I can't shake it either, Caleb."

For the first time in a long time, he looked truly scared, and Caleb hated seeing him look anything but the confident and cocky kid that he had known and loved for almost a decade.

And he knew that if Dean was feeling this way, he knew to take it seriously. It wasn't often that Dean copped to feeling a certain way that he knew would draw attention to himself, and when he admitted to it and looked upset, Caleb knew that they needed to figure it out the best they could.

"Because you think something might happen?"

Dean nodded, bowing his head as he raised a hand to wipe a few incoming tears that had started to slither down his cheeks. "It's like, what the hell else can happen to us?" he said, as he shook his head incredulously.

"I know," Caleb said with a laugh. "We've kind of hit the jackpot when it concerns all the bad breaks, huh?"

Dean nodded. "Y—Yeah, you can say that."

"I can tell you," Caleb said, after a moment of thought, as he reached out and pulled Dean against him. "That we're okay for right now. Everything is okay, Dean."

"Yeah, but for how long?"

"I don't know that yet," Caleb said honestly. "But I _do_ know that we're doing okay right now."

"Yeah, but if they come again, they'll take Bobby too, right?"

"Possibly," Caleb admitted, as he scrubbed a hand across his mouth. "But we're not there yet," he reminded him. "I know it's kind of hardwired into your DNA to worry, but try not to. We got this, Bobby and I do, and Dawn, too."

"Have you talked to her recently?" Dean asked, as he stood up from the couch to stretch his sore muscles that had been born out of the limited work that he had managed to get in.

"I did. She said that as far as she knew, we were in the clear. They weren't necessarily looking in Sioux Falls at that moment."

Dean nodded, heaving a deep sigh as he put one foot on the stairs to head back up. "Okay."

"Do you want to finish up later?" Caleb asked, following his intended course.

"Sure. I'm getting thirsty."

"Me too," Caleb said, as he jokingly pushed Dean up the stairs.

"Get the hell off me," Dean said, grinning as he pushed him lightly, but not hard enough to send him flying backward.

"I'll do whatever I want, boy," Caleb retorted.

"You wish."

Smiling like he hadn't thought was possible with the weight of his concerns going through his mind, he wandered into the kitchen with Caleb right behind him, as they found Sam and Bobby sitting at the island counter, reading through something that looked like homework problems for Sam.

Since the boys were unable to go back to school for obvious reasons, the guys had started the shaky process of home-schooling both of them. Sam had taken to it like no one's business as he breezed through the practice problems and lessons that the guys gave him.

Dean did too, but sometimes his mind tended to become distracted and so he needed the extra encouragement sometimes to get it done and over with, and an incentive in the form of training later, or a favorite movie or TV show.

"Hey, dweeb," Dean said, as he teasingly smacked Sam lightly on the head.

"Dude!" Nine-year-old Sam whined. "Get _off_ me. I'm trying to focus."

"How long have you been out here even?" Dean asked, as he dug in the fridge for a drink.

"Only about an hour," Sam defended.

"We were just about to finish up," Bobby explained, catching the look Caleb threw him.

"Cool," Caleb said, giving Sam a warm smile. "Let me see 'em when you're through."

"I know."

If he got most of the problems right, he was usually allowed a small prize that the guys were able to get for him. It was great motivation for him to perform at his best performance.

"How are you doing, Dean?" Bobby asked, catching the pensive look on his face as he watched his brother.

"Alright. Just a lot of crap running through my brain."

"Oh, really? Like what?"

"Nothing," Dean said, shaking his head, not wanting to go into it again. "I already talked to him about it," he said, looking at Caleb.

"Okay."

* * *

As the evening progressed, Dean tried to induce any amount of calm in himself that he could as Sam finished with his homework, and he took his turn, and then it was time for showers and downtime, before finally going to bed.

It was the steady routine that they had developed that mattered to him. In a world that was constantly turning and shifting around them, the idea that something could still be normal and alright, was what mattered to Dean as he cuddled deep under his heavy comforter as he waited for Caleb to come in and say goodnight to him. It was a ritual that he performed every night, as he went from room to room to say goodnight to the kids.

"Hey," Caleb said, as he came into his bedroom. "You get everything done?"

Dean nodded, as he switched himself to a sitting position. "Yeah. I brushed my teeth, got my pajamas on."

"Good job, kiddo," Caleb said, as he sat down at the edge of his bed. "Did you salt the window?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

Even though it was nearly impossible for a demon to break through the iron that the house was made of, they still took extra precautions with the Devil's Traps, and salt lines that they put down every night before the boys went to sleep.

It gave them an extra level of security, and it also gave the adults peace of mind in knowing that every precautionary level they could take against the demons, had been executed.

"Good job. Do you feel better about everything since we talked?"

"I guess," Dean said, with a shrug as he twisted his blanket around his finger. "It helps sometimes."

"Oh, really?" Caleb said with an amused raise of his eyebrow. "Because I recall distinctly that every single time I try talking to you about anything remotely in the region of personal feelings, you shut me down-"

"Shut up," Dean said, smiling. "It helps sometimes-"

"Say it again," Caleb teased. "Say it."

"You were right," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "You want me to say it again? Or is your ego all satisfied now?"

"No, I think it's good," Caleb said, as he leaned foreword and gave Dean a tight hug. "I love you, kiddo."

"I love you, too," Dean whispered, as he wrapped his arms around him.

"I'm going to be right down the hall in my room, okay?"

Dean nodded, as he laid back down. "I know, I'll come screaming if something happens."

"Good plan."

* * *

The night wore on without much variation. Dean tried to sleep, tried to ease the growing unease in the pit of his stomach, but he was unable to. Not when he knew the history associated with their tight-knit family, and how the other shoe always dropped eventually.

Sighing as he threw back his covers, he decided to go seek out Caleb's company in his room. From what he had told him earlier, he would be up late studying some potential new jobs that were on their radar. Even though they couldn't do them themselves, Bobby had an entire network of people who would be more than willing to take it off their shoulders, while still allowing them to keep their protective cover.

"Hey," Dean said, after he had knocked once on the door and walked in.

"Hey, dude," Caleb said, as he looked up from his work.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Looking through the cases."

"Is Rufus or Jefferson going to take them on?" Dean asked, as he squinted down at the tiny print on the newspaper.

"Probably, yeah. You couldn't sleep?"

Dean shook his head. "Nada."

"I'm sorry. You're more than welcome to camp out here all you want."

"Thanks."

They were about to settle down, Dean had even gotten himself comfortable under the covers, when they heard something outside.

Something that sounded like a car door shutting.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean could feel his entire body tense up in response to that sound that he heard so clearly outside: The sound of a car door slamming shut. It wasn't often that they encountered a visitor, not unless it was some pointless marketing campaign, or some kid dropping off the newspaper, but someone dropping by this late at night, was definitely cause for concern as Dean turned terrified eyes over to his guardian, to Caleb, and saw nothing but the same coolness in which he normally conducted himself, obviously an attempt to either keep _himself_ or _both_ of them calm in the face of the great unknown that was assaulting their life in that instant.

Dean watched with sharp, keen eyes as Caleb eased his toned body off the bed to go over to the one window in the bedroom to further assess the situation, and whether there was any danger or not. Dean would have gone with him over to the wall, would have urged his body foreword despite the pressing ache of dread and fear that he could feel settling in his heart, but he wasn't sure his body would cooperate with him like he wanted it to.

Instead, he settled for observing Caleb as he pulled back the blinds that had been a permanent fixture on the home since they had taken up permanent residence there. It was hard to accurately predict what was happening, not when Caleb's back was turned to him, and he wasn't making a sound from which to identify the current situation.

Not able to take the pressure of not knowing whether they were under attack or not, Dean finally found the courage to move his feet foreword as he came to join Caleb at the window. Outside, the yard was quiet, dark. There was no sign of human (or demonic) life, and while he knew that it wouldn't be demonic, he never knew if something strong enough would one day break through the barriers and attack.

There were no lights outside, either, that would usually signify the presence of the police, something that Dean had feared the instant he had heard the car door shut. Not knowing whether to feel relief that it had obviously been a fluke, or suspicion, he looked over again at his guardian.

Caleb hadn't made a sound as to what to do, and while Dean knew that he was still examining the situation, making sure that it was either safe to relax again, or that they needed to take further action, it was unsettling when he needed to know what course of action to take, and whether or not they needed to wake Sammy up from his deep slumber.

"Is it okay—y?" Dean asked, his voice catching on the last word as he looked at him.

"I don't know yet. I can't see any lights or people, but that doesn't mean a damn thing when they're sneaky like they are."

He was referring to the police and their even more brutal FBI counterparts. It wasn't like them to be obvious, and while warning would have been ideal in their situation, Dean also knew that they could have happened upon their house and decided to forgo the lights to play out the act of surprise for their intended victims.

_Them_.

It made Dean _sick_ when he thought of it like that, but there was no other way to think about it as he watched Caleb finally move the blinds back in place, and move back across the room toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, his voice heavy.

This was all _too_ much—being on the run for so long and facing the constant struggle that went along with it, only to find a resolution in the form of a safe house, and then have something like _this_ happen to them. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't something that he enjoyed feeling, this constant state of adrenaline and alertness that went with living life so close to the edge.

"I'm going to go get Bobby," Caleb said, "and see what he thinks. It's probably something to do with the other house next door, but I can't be sure of that."

Not until it was safe, and Dean realized that, even though he hated seeing Caleb walk away from him, and as he followed him down the hall toward Bobby's bedroom, he tried to control the almost frantic pounding of his heart as they finally reached the correct door.

To their surprise, Bobby was still awake, as he perused the section of newspaper that dealt with the various crimes in their area. It was clear that he was saving it for when he would call his friends and have them take the job off their shoulders.

In that instant though, hunting was the last thing on Dean's mind as he watched Bobby glance up at the sound of their approach. His face which had dropped into the kind of look that would usually precede a reprimand for interrupting him, softened up when he saw the look of panic and uncertainty on their faces.

"What the hell is going on?"

Even though his tone held its usual gruffness, there was also a rarely seen undercurrent of confusion as he took in the terrified look on Dean's face, and the steadily controlled one of Caleb's. He knew that, for them to look like they'd just seen a ghost, something bad had to have just happened.

"We," Caleb said, gesturing over to Dean, "just heard something outside. It's probably nothing, I didn't see anything, but it made us nervous."

"What kind of _something_?" Bobby asked, narrowing his eyebrows the way he did when he was gathering facts about something, and trying to draw conclusion based off those facts.

"A car door shutting," Dean explained, as he ventured further into the messy room and sat down on the bed next to Bobby. "It sounded close. Like, in the _yard_ close."

Bobby nodded in understanding as he stood up. They had been incredibly fortunate to not have anything happen while they had been staying there, but he also realized that that same luck that had sustained them through a lot, could also run out at any point.

He hoped it wasn't _now_ when they weren't nearly as prepared to deal with the consequences of it, but he knew that the police were crafty, able to pick up something silly and inconsequential and turn into something that would lead them to where they were.

And even though they tried to accurately predict what the police were thinking and doing at all times, it wasn't always possible when they had other concerns on their plates, in particular, making sure that the boys stayed safe from harm.

Following his progress as he walked out of the room and down the long hall, Dean and Caleb barely spoke out of the fear that they would ruin the intense focus that Bobby had as he went to the one big window in the living room that had a good view of the driveway and yard, and as he pulled back the curtains and blinds that protected them from view from the other neighbors and passersby, Dean tried to control that part of him that wanted to run, to get away from the chaos and stress and just leave while they had the chance.

It wasn't altogether realistic, especially if nothing was wrong, but he couldn't stand the idea of them staying in one place for too long and then paying the price for that mistake later on, when it was too late and they were once again separated as a family.

"I don't see anything," Bobby finally said, as he turned to face the two people in front of him. "More than likely it was something next door."

"I don't know," Caleb said, "it sounded too close for that."

"We'll keep an eye on it," Bobby assured him. "In the meantime, no playing outside," he added, looking at Dean. "We'll have to make sure Sam knows that, too."

Dean nodded, fully in agreement with that plan if it went a long way in making sure that they stayed safe from the police. "Okay, that's not a problem."

Going back to bed was a near impossibility for both he _and_ Caleb. Even though there hadn't been any real danger, the nerves that had resulted from thinking it, had left both of them wide awake as they tried to find some way to come down from the high of unease that they had experienced.

Like he had done before they had been rudely interrupted by whatever had been going on outside, Dean chose to camp out in Caleb's room for the night. He couldn't sleep before in his room, and he was more than positive that trying again would only yield the same results as he curled up underneath the covers.

"You think we're good?" Dean asked, as he looked over at Caleb for his response.

"I think for now. I think it was a false alarm more than anything."

"Probably."

"Bobby checked, and he didn't see anything. If it was them, they wouldn't just go away. They wouldn't announce themselves and decide to turn tail and walk out."

"I know," Dean admitted, "but the idea of something like that happening again, is just-"

There weren't enough words in the English language to accurately portray how the idea of them being torn apart again by the thoughtless and heartless actions of the prosecution, was enough to make him half sick to his stomach.

Even though they had no way of knowing what they did about the supernatural, just the idea that they assumed they could go and throw their weight around, was something that Dean couldn't ever move past as he tried to forget about the excitement of the night, and attempt sleep for once.

"It's pretty scary, isn't it?" Caleb said, his tone and face taking on that of sympathy for what the kids had been going through since they had made the fateful choice to run.

Even though it was a decision that had been made with the purest of intentions of keeping them together in one place without the fear of separation, the risk of it was still something that weighed heavily on their minds when something like _this_ came up, when the reality of what they had decided to do, caught up to them like it had tonight.

"You have no idea," Dean said.

"I know that the thought of what could happen, freaks you out, but we'll _always_ find a way back to each other. This family will, _right_?" he prodded, hoping to get Dean into a somewhat healthier frame of mind to accept the fact that they were okay for the time being.

"But how do you know that?" Dean asked. "There's only so many hits one person can take before it all comes crashing down for good."

"Because I know how much we all love each other, and how the people that don't understand, have never been able to stop us before. We have resources that they can't even dream of, and that will help us go far in the end."

"I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you or Bobby or Sam. I mean it, Caleb."

"I know you do," Caleb said seriously, as he put a hand on his shoulder. "And I promise you that crap may happen that keeps us apart for a little bit of time, but those people will never win in the end."

Dean nodded. "I know. I just can't stand the thought of it happening at all, much less however long they decide to keep tormenting us."

"Well, that's the question. How long. But we shouldn't worry about this until it actually happens, Dean."

"But-"

It was in his nature to worry.

Especially when all the bad luck that could possibly happen to anyone, had seemed to landslide right into their laps. It wasn't an enviable position to be in, and it was the one thing that Dean hated most about their lives as hunters, and in his case, hunter in training.

"Dean," Caleb said gently, "let's not talk about this anymore tonight. You need to sleep, bud, okay?"

"I'm not tired."

It was the absolute truth. There had been too much excitement for him to feel anything remotely in the range of tiredness, and though he knew he would pay for it tomorrow, he doubted he would be able to sleep that much.

"I don't really care," Caleb said, smiling a little to show that he was only partially teasing. "You need to lay your head down on that pillow, and close your eyes. Unless you want to try to go to your room," he amended with a shrug.

Dean shook his head, definitely not in line with that idea after all the excitement of thinking that the cops had finally found them. He felt safer being with someone who had the ability to protect him if worse came to worse.

"No, I want to stay in here."

"Then you have to sleep. Or at least _try_ to."

"I'll try," Dean compromised as he scooted himself further down in the bed, trying to punch the pillow around until he found a somewhat comfortable position to bask in.

"Thank you," Caleb said, as he reached over and turned off the light.

* * *

Despite his doubts that he would be able to achieve any lasting sleep, he surprised himself by managing to fall asleep fairly quickly after the lights had gone off. It might have been the fact that his body was more tired than he had realized, or that he was close to a burn-out and his mind realized that and obliged him by allowing him the precious gift of sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he resisted the transition from unconsciousness to consciousness as he grasped his pillow tightly in his hand, trying to will his mind back to a restful state so he could reclaim some more _zzz's_ that he had lost in the excitement of everything happening.

When it became clear that his body was ready to begin the day, he threw back the covers grudgingly as he palmed his face, wiping the crust from his eyes as he glanced over at Caleb. He was awake and was already getting dressed over by his closet.

"Sleep good?" Caleb asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

"_Yes_," Dean said with a groan.

"Good."

Dean nodded. "I'm still tired, but it's better."

"Good. You can have some downtime today after you finish your schoolwork."

"Thanks."

Their lessons usually started right after breakfast, and though he and Sam were allowed regular breaks to stretch and ease their minds a little bit, they didn't stop lessons until three or four in the afternoon.

Breakfast was slow as Dean scraped his fork against the plate, trying to summon up enough strength to get through the rest of the morning. When he was getting the answers right on his worksheets, he felt more confident about it, and more excited, but when he needed help with something, that was when he got frustrated and down on himself.

"You doing okay?" Bobby asked, looking curiously at Dean.

"Yeah. Just everything from last night," Dean replied quietly.

"What happened last night?" Sam asked, clearly not having been privy to that information before.

Even though he had long ago found out the "truth" about his family and what they did right under his nose, they still preferred it if he was as out of the life as possible, even though training him had become something that Caleb had begun to take up with him out of force more than anything.

At nine, they still wanted him to be a kid. They still wanted him to enjoy the kinds of things that normal kids enjoyed, and though that was something that was more than a little impossible due to the current circumstances, they still never stopped looking for opportunities to give him a chance at it.

"We thought someone was here," Dean said, as he threw a piece of food at him.

"Who?" Sam asked, as he threw it back.

"The cops," Dean said. "But it wasn't anything."

"They weren't here?" Sam asked, distracted away from his breakfast as he turned to look at his family.

"No," Caleb said, shaking his head as he got out the kid's homework supplies. "We heard a noise, thought it was them, but it wasn't."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked nervously, as though he doubted it could be that simple.

"I'm sure," Caleb said lightly, trying to show him through his actions more than anything that it was fine. "Everything is _fine_, Sammy."

"Okay."

Once the breakfast dishes had been cleared away from the table, Caleb laid their worksheets down for them to complete. Normally the boys didn't put up much of an argument when it came time to do their problems, except for when they got bored and itched to do something else.

"Dean," Caleb said, "you didn't finish this sheet yesterday."

"Which one?"

"This one. The math one," Caleb said, as he showed it to him.

"Yeah, because math _sucks_."

"Regardless, you have to learn it."

Even though the boys had just started home-schooling, Caleb and Bobby were trying to align the curriculum with their state's standards, and fully intended on making sure the boys took special tests the state put out to make sure they were moving right along to where they were supposed to.

In order to accomplish that goal, Caleb knew that they had to work hard even though school had never been appealing to _anyone_ except Sam.

"I know."

Sighing as he started to do the problems, Dean tried to concentrate on that instead of the growing unease that he could feel growing inside him as he glanced periodically out the window. So far, everything was clear, but he knew that could change in a single second.

When, right after their lunch break had started, there was a knock at the door, Dean froze, as did Caleb and Sam as they glanced over at Bobby.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Bobby said, looking over at Caleb. "What do you want to do?"

When the knock sounded again, this time with more intensity than before, Caleb snapped out of the shock that his body had thrown him into, and he leaped into action.

"Dean, take your brother and go hide in the safe."

The "safe" was a cellar beneath the floorboards in Caleb's room that was hidden, conveniently, in the closet. A rug normally covered the hatch, and with a little bit of manipulation, the hider could smooth the rug back over the hatch to make it invisible to the police or anyone else finding them.

Dean hesitated, clearly not comfortable at all with the idea of leaving Caleb and Bobby to deal with whatever problem was landing in their laps now. Tears of indecision momentarily blinded his line of vision before he shook them off with a determined shake of his head, and grabbed his brother's hand.

He could hear Caleb and Bobby discussing what they would do, but he knew that they wouldn't answer the door until they had given them enough time to hide. Running into Caleb's room, Dean threw aside all the hangers of clothes and got down on his hands and knees as he pulled the latch up that would grant them access to the cellar.

Taking a deep breath, he crouched down low as he walked down the steps that led down to the confined space. Waiting until Sam had joined him, he climbed back up to close it, but couldn't resist listening in to the limited amount of dialogue that he could hear come from the other part of the house.

"It's them," he heard Bobby say, and that made his heart drop like a stone into his stomach.

"The police?" he heard Caleb say.

"Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

Things had been going somewhat okay for them in recent weeks. It figured that the cops would find _some_ reason to come and search the safe house for him, but that didn't ease the pressing fear in Caleb's heart as he looked at Bobby in a blind panic, clearly wondering _what_ to do, what course of action they could take that would eliminate as much of the threat as possible.

It wouldn't be easy—not when the police were smart—able to think fast on their feet, and most of the time, be able to see through any crap that their suspects tried to pull. It was the same treatment that he had long ago come to expect from them, but that still didn't make it any easier as he tried to contemplate what to do.

Either he could face it like a man and let the police see him and take him back to a place that he didn't belong in to _begin_ with, or he could make a run for it and hide somewhere in the house. Either in the cellar with the boys, which was something he was uneasy about, especially if the cops found him and dragged him out in front of the kids.

Or he could find someplace else in the house to hide and let Bobby deal with them. They couldn't arrest him without hard proof of his perceived guilt in helping him escape, and aid him in his continued luck in avoiding arrest.

If they managed to uncover him in the house, Caleb knew that they would have more than enough cause to arrest Bobby for aiding and abetting, and while that was something that was unimaginable, especially when they factored in the boys and the impact it would have on them, it was something that was a possibility when Bobby had denied it and lied right to their faces when they had approached him with their suspicions.

With all those torrent of thoughts running through an already crowded mind, he scrubbed a hand over his face as he looked for an available exit to take, one that would conceal him while Bobby spoke with the cops and tried to divert their attention as far away from him as possible.

"What do you want me to do?" Caleb whispered, knowing they were running out of time where the cops would be willing to work with them, especially if Bobby kept them waiting for a suspiciously long time.

"Hide. Go!" Bobby hissed, waving his hand in the direction of the rest of the house. "Go in the cellar, or go someplace else. I'll do what I can here."

Caleb nodded, trying to swallow back the lump in his throat, but was met instead with a throat that was parched dry with the nervousness that he felt as he ran first in the direction of his bedroom, and then changed course and ran into the study which had a cramped closet full of things that he could hide behind.

Pushing himself in as far as he could go, he waited and listened as Bobby finally opened the door to admit their number one enemies. People who should have understood them, people who should have believed them and left them alone, but were either oblivious to the obvious, or just sadly corrupted in their work.

Either way, they _certainly_ hadn't done them any favors.

"What can I do for you?" he heard Bobby say as he finally opened the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir," the officer said, sounding perfectly affable, but Caleb could tell that he was suspicious of what had caused the delay in opening the door for them. "But we received an anonymous tip from a source that believes Caleb Rivers is hiding here."

Caleb groaned internally as he heard those words slip from the officer's mouth. The hardest thing for him to reconcile in his brain, was that it was the absolute truth, even if the reasons were different than what the prison and the police would like to think.

The other pressing concern on his mind _now_, was who had ratted them out. Either someone from the town had chanced a glance at him during the few times that he had been outside, or someone possessed had called the cops and ratted him out.

Either way, it was something that was scary, especially when he was brutally reminded of how high the stakes were, and what would happen to he and Bobby if he was found in the closet he had crammed himself into.

They would be arrested for the separate charges that they faced in the prison system. He, for escaping, and Bobby for helping him do it. It was an action that would most likely result in him losing custody of the boys, and then what?

If they didn't think of a contingency plan fast, they would be bound for the foster care system that could hold the power of placing them in separate care because of how notoriously hard it was to place siblings together.

"Well," Bobby said with a laugh, clearly playing his part well as he tried to downplay what the officer was saying to him. "I don't know where this 'source' has been getting their information, but he's not here."

"Are you sure about that? She provided very specific details to our department."

The police had bothered Bobby before when they thought he had been hiding Caleb, and now that they apparently had evidence to back up why they were there, it made Caleb all the more nervous as he pressed his ear against the door to listen in some more.

"Maybe she just wanted to get her name in the paper. Get some attention for herself," Bobby suggested. "All I know is that I haven't seen or spoken to Caleb since before he escaped."

It was a lie, and a big one, but they had both been hunting long enough that lying was part of the deal and it came easily to them. It was something that should have felt wrong to do, especially to someone in a position of authority over them, but when it was a situation of life or death, lying was something that they definitely resorted to.

"Well, we appreciate you taking the time to talk to us-"

"You're welcome-"

"But we need to take a look around, if you don't mind."

Caleb's heart sank like a boulder into his stomach as he allowed those unbelievable words to digest into his system. If the police were serious about searching for him, it wouldn't take much effort for them to find him in the closet and haul him out in cuffs. It was a worst case scenario, and something that they should have seen coming, but somehow hadn't.

"Where's your search warrant?" Bobby replied testily, clearly not giving in without a solid fight.

"Right here."

Caleb heard a brief exchange of paper being passed between hands for Bobby's inspection, before there was silence for a brief second.

"Okay," Bobby said. "I have to warn you though, it's a mess in here."

Caleb shook his head in complete incredulity at what they were being put through by these people. Either they had been tipped off like they claimed, or they had decided to come snoop around for their own pleasure.

Either way, there was nothing they could do about it now. The damage had been done.

Most of the house was covered in hardwood flooring, making it possible for him to hear where they were in the house as they carefully combed through every nook and cranny for him. It was making his heart race as he heard them draw closer to the study where he was hiding out.

Closing his eyes as he tried to draw breath through the panic that he could feel migrating through his system, he tried to sink as far back into the closet as he could when he heard Bobby and the officers walk into the room.

Bobby had no way of knowing that he had chosen _that_ room to hide in, but judging from the way that they were searching more meticulously, they had already covered all the other rooms in the house, and this was their last stop before admitting defeat.

It was clear that Bobby had picked up on the fact that Caleb was in the closet from the way that his eyes discreetly flew to that space, and when he managed to catch Caleb's gaze, Caleb gave him a careful nod, communicating with him in ways that weren't possible with words at the moment.

"Okay, sir, we need to search through there if you don't mind," the officer said, looking at Bobby, who had gone to stand in front of the closet.

"Well, it's too small to fit a person anyway, and there's too much junk."

"Well, then it should be quick."

Caleb could feel sweat collecting on the back of his neck as he watched Bobby try to defuse them from their intended path. It was gut-wrenching because he knew that they would force their way in, and they would see him immediately, and then he wouldn't have a choice but to go with them unless he wanted to risk punching them out and making a desperate run for it.

Which he knew he wouldn't because of the implications it could have on the boys in the end.

"Look," Bobby said, knowing that he was running out of room for argument. "There's too much junk in there, plus you would have heard something by now even if he _had_ managed to squeeze in there."

That would have been true had it not been for Caleb already situating himself before the police had gone into the room. The closet was messy, and had pointless junk that had been left discarded and abandoned on the ground.

"Step aside," the officer warned, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Or you could be detained for obstruction of justice, just a warning."

"What gives you the right to come into my home and push me around like a damn pinata?" Bobby demanded.

"When we are in the process of a criminal investigation that involves an escaped convict, we have every right in the world to come into _any_ residence that we believe holds that person. Warrant or _not_," the officer added bitingly.

Caleb swallowed back the roll of nausea that had collected in the back of his throat. He knew what was going to happen now, and he was trying to mentally prepare himself as much as he possibly could before the firestorm of hell rained down on them once again.

In that instant, in that split second that it took for the officer to open the door and see him there, he hated them. People that were _supposed_ to be allies, had completely dropped the ball and had believed the careless lies spread by an overzealous prosecutor, and people who just couldn't understand their side for whatever reason they harbored.

Instead of the rush that he expected from them when they saw him, they reacted calmly, as though they were having a civil conversation about the weather, instead of convincing someone to surrender.

"Come out of the closet," the officer began.

"I'm not going to resist," Caleb said, deciding right then and there to make it known to them that he wasn't a threat.

"Okay. Step out of the closet and put your hands behind your head with your fingers interlocked."

His stomach churning, Caleb obeyed their orders and stepped out of the closet, and then turned and put his hands behind his head. When the officer grabbed his first hand and pulled it back behind his back and cuffed it, he tried not to wince as the action was repeated with his other one, restraining them close behind him.

Passing Bobby a look, he listened while they read him his rights, and then he numbly heard himself agreeing to them. This was something that had _always_ been a possibility when he had agreed to escape, and honestly, he knew that he would do it again.

No amount of cell doors or prison guards could keep him from those kids, and if he had to stage anther breakout with Bobby's friends, than so be it. This was a temporary setback, and that was _all_ he intended it to be, too.

"Please," Caleb said, his voice breaking. Even though he knew that he would form another plan to get himself out, that didn't erase the hurt that he felt for the boys, and the fear that something would go awry. "Don't—don't take him," he said, looking over at a frozen Bobby. "He didn't know anything about this."

It was a complete lie, and one that they would most likely see right through, but if he could mitigate any possible charges against Bobby, and allow him to stay at the house with the boys, he wanted that managed and done if at all possible.

"He knew right from the beginning where you were hiding," the officer said. "He lied to us."

"No," Caleb said, shaking his head. He would have wiped the tears that he could feel coming down his face, but his hands were locked behind him. "I was hiding in a couple different places. He didn't know where I was or anything like that, just that I had escaped. I only came here today. He has not been helping me."

"It's true," Bobby said, speaking up for the first time. "I've been taking care of the boys at my other residence here. I have this house, and I have the one that I own my salvage business in. I knew that the boys needed a change of scenery, and so I brought them here so they could run and have fun. He only showed up here today, a few hours ago."

No one had physically seen them occupy the same space together. It was believable, especially with the lie that Bobby had only brought Sam and Dean there that day, instead of having them all together for over a month now.

"You have not had any contact before this?" the officer asked skeptically.

"No," Bobby said, shaking his head. "Not since before he escaped."

"Did you help him escape?"

"No, and your job isn't to interrogate me," Bobby reminded him. "Either you arrest me if you have probable cause, or you leave it until the DA can take it from here."

It was a bold move, but if he could have more time to figure out a plan for Sam and Dean, and get Dawn over to Sioux Falls to help him, he could try to formulate a plan of escape for Caleb, once again. The idea of him spending two or more years behind bars, hadn't been an option for them. Not when the boys needed him desperately, and not when he was invaluable in making sure the boys stayed hidden and safe.

"Alright," the officer said. "We don't have proof beyond a reasonable doubt right now, but we'll pass our report over to the DA's office, and they can decide what action to take against you, if any."

"So you're not going to arrest me now?" Bobby ventured.

"Not right now, but we have no choice but to take him in," the officer said, as he grabbed onto Caleb's arm.

"I know."

"I'll call you when I can," Caleb whispered, when the officer turned his head to confer quietly with his partner.

"Okay. I'll call Dawn, and I'll get everything set in motion."

"Thank you."

"We'll get you back out. I don't have the faintest _how_, but we will."

They had managed it before in impossible circumstances, and though this would be way different with the amount of security that would surround him with an escape under his belt, they would have to figure it out somehow.

Bobby knew that.

They were hunters who had unlimited resources at their disposal. It would be fine because it had to be fine.


	5. Chapter 5

It was hard for Bobby to forget the complete and utter look of fear and helplessness that appeared in Caleb's eyes as the cops finished up their arrest by searching him thoroughly for any illegal contraband or weapons that he may have been hiding in his pants, and though that had _never_ been the case with him, it was clear that they wanted to make sure, especially since he had been on the run for so long. The morning had started out peaceful (and even quiet), and had changed and torpedoed into a nightmare situation that he was lucky to have escaped from in one piece, especially since the cops had agreed _not_ to arrest him until they had handed their report over to the DA for their inspection.

Silently following the officers down the long hallway as they prepared to leave with him, it was on the edge of his tongue to demand more answers, demand the reason for _why_ they had stormed his place without warning, and without so much as a phone call, or even demand the "source" of their information, but he wisely held his tongue, knowing that no amount of manipulation or lies would help solve the situation _enough_ so that his friend would be released from custody.

It was a horrible situation. Especially when Bobby remembered when Caleb had broken down and had actually started crying as he begged the police not to take Bobby with them, to have someone be there for the boys who would be scared and confused enough as it was, without the added weight of knowing that both of their guardians were gone from their lives.

Shaking his head slowly in disbelief at what had just transpired, he tried to be strong for Caleb's sake as he watched the officers open the front door and prepare to take him out to their squad car. These people were supposed to be the good guys, and yet they had completely turned their backs on them, and refused to listen to reason when it concerned some of the more colorful charges that had been brought against them.

In that instant, he hated them just as much as Caleb did for the position they were putting _all_ of them in, especially the boys, who both adored and loved Caleb like he was their own flesh and blood relative, and though he knew that they would understand that none of this was anyone's fault, it would still be difficult for them to make the realization that yet another firestorm of hell had been dropped down on their family.

Dawn would be their only hope of protecting Caleb against any future retribution for his escape. If she could convince the judge that he had suffered through enough in being brought back to the prison and that he was truly remorseful for what he had done, it was possible that the judge would decide to save everyone's time and money and allow him to continue to carry out his original sentence without further hassle.

But of course that would be contingent on them having a serious miracle and stroke of luck, and when had that _ever_ worked in their favor lately? They had been lucky to have the escape go off without a hitch, but now they were left dealing with the fallout of that escape.

"I'll see you soon," Bobby promised, finally managing to secure the words needed to address his friend one final time.

"Okay. Make sure you call Dawn."

"I will. I promise."

Over the last few months, she had proved to be a lifesaver to them, someone who could be counted on to keep their secrets, and also be trusted to hold the information on their secretive hunting life, and not tell a single soul about it. It had been a decision that Caleb had made in order to make sure that Dawn would be on board with his escape, and he had been right to divulge that to her in the end.

As the cops finally took him and left, Bobby heaved a deep sigh as he mentally prepared himself to go find the boys and bring them out of the hiding space that they had crammed themselves into in the cellar. It had been the only spot that the cops had failed to take notice of, and Bobby was grateful for that as he made his way back down the hall toward Caleb's bedroom.

It would be enough for them to withstand the horrifying knowledge that Caleb was gone from their lives again, without the added trauma of seeing him in handcuffs. That had been one of the reasons why Caleb had chosen to forgo hiding in the safer option of the cellar, and even though it would have been the one thing that would have saved his skin in the end, they had had no way of knowing that before.

Heaving a deep sigh as he pushed open the door to the bedroom and made a straight path toward the closet that housed the trap door down to the cellar, he tried to imagine this conversation with Sam and Dean, and couldn't. They had both been so thrilled, so _happy_ to have him back in their lives, and even though it was always in the back of their minds that something could go wrong, they hadn't let that rain on the good times they had been having with him.

Crouching down, he grasped the smooth hook of the door and pulled up. The boys were right there, both jockeying for a good position with which to hear the news about the unexpected police raid, and whether they had all come out of it in one piece or not.

"You guys can come out," Bobby said, trying to force a neutral expression on his face so that he wouldn't scare them right off the bat as he stood back to allow them up.

"What happened?" Dean asked, once he had finally crawled up the steep steps and was back on normal ground again. It was clear that he had been waiting for information for awhile, from the way that his eyes darted around the room, obviously assessing the area to make sure that it was safe, the hunter in him clearly shining through in moments like these.

It was sad that he had to face something like this at _all_, but it was another facet of their life that they had to deal with, something else that had gone wrong, and dealing with authorities that were clueless and didn't know what they were really talking about.

"The police came," Bobby said, deciding to start off slow as he worked his way up to the heartbreaking news of Caleb's latest arrest.

"No duh," Dean said, rolling his eyes as he followed Bobby out of the room and down the hall back toward the kitchen where they normally conducted their meetings. "But what did they _say_? What ended up happening?" he asked, as he chewed on his bottom lip, a nervous habit of his that he had developed at a young age.

"They came and said that someone had tipped them off as to the fact that Caleb was here."

"Who?" Sam asked, as he and his brother traded uneasy looks.

In the small town of Sioux Falls, it could have been any one of the residents who had managed to get a glance at the escaped felon, but more than likely, someone from the town had been unfortunate enough to have been possessed, and using that level of control that the demon had over the unwitting victim, they placed the call to the police.

"I don't know yet," Bobby replied, as he grasped both ends of the granite counter with his hands. "But they had a search warrant and everything. They came prepared."

"And so what happened?" Dean asked, feeling his heart start to move at an uneven pace as his mind finally caught up to reality, and the fact that his other guardian, Caleb, was nowhere to be seen.

While one part of his brain was already contemplating the horrible truth that he hadn't survived the police raid, a more stubborn part of his brain immediately dismissed such a ridiculous notion, and he was simply hiding out somewhere until it was safe to come out again, or maybe he had even left the house and was hiding in the woods somewhere.

"They searched through every room in the house," Bobby said, rolling his eyes, "but they finally searched the study, the last room, and they found him, Dean," he said, his tone softening on the last sentence.

Hiding in a closet in plain view of the police officers had been an almost surefire way of getting caught and arrested, but there had been a limited number of options available to him, and while it was maddening that it could have been avoided, there was no way to reverse the twisted hands of time that kept insisting on letting them know that it had the ultimate power.

Dean didn't respond for several minutes, and as Bobby watched him carefully for his reaction, he eventually heard a small sob climb up his throat, and though he tried to control his reaction for the sake of his brother, it was quickly becoming clear that it was a lost cause for him, as he buried his face in his shirt and sobbed, his back shaking with the force behind it.

Sam was no different as his small body crumbled in the terrifying realization that his guardian was gone again, someone that had been with him since the time he was only a year old, and someone who loved and adored he and his brother like they were his own flesh and blood.

Sam had only been a year old when he had lost both his parents, so Caleb and Bobby and Jim had been the only people that he remembered bringing he and Dean up to where they were now. It was hard for him to reconcile the fact that people who were supposed to help them and protect them from harm, were actually the ones causing the most damage by separating them.

"Dean," Bobby said, after a minute, clearly at a loss as to what to do. It was so uncommon for him to break down like this, but when he did, it was something that was hard to bring to a close, and especially when the circumstances were so dire and so heartbreaking for him, especially with the bond that he and Caleb had.

Many times it was a blessing for them to have that closeness with each other.

At other times, it was a nightmare when they were forced apart due to the thoughtlessness of another. It was times like this, that Bobby wished he had the ability to reach that part of Dean that Caleb was so amazing at doing, but he knew that it was because Caleb and Dean had had time to develop that bond that Caleb was able to reach him, because he had all the time in the world, whereas Bobby had just started living with them full time only a few months back.

"He—He can't b—be g—gone," Dean sobbed, as he reached for a towel to wipe his face off. "Why do these sons of bitches keep doing this to us!" he demanded, though he knew that was a question that Bobby was incapable of answering, because it was something that completely _defied_ reason.

"Dean, it will be okay," Bobby soothed as he walked around the table to attempt to comfort the completely devastated child.

"Stop saying that," Dean cried, "because it's _not_ true. I can't take this anymore, Bobby. Every time I think something is going right for us, something happens to change it."

"It sure seems like that, doesn't it," Bobby said.

"It _is_ like that," Dean said, finally lifting his head to meet Bobby's gaze head on. "Why do these people keep doing this?"

"Because they think they know everything," Sam said, with a Dean-like scoff. "What they _don't_ know is how good Caleb is to us, and how much he loves us."

"That doesn't matter to them," Dean said, shaking his head. "He's the enemy right now, and now he'll be brought back to Minnesota to face whatever crap charges they manage to cook up now."

"We'll do everything we can, Dean," Bobby said, as he reached out in an attempt to rub his shoulder or do something to induce some amount of calm in the boy, but when he shrugged away from the touch, he didn't try it again, deciding that it would be better to give him his space.

"Did you call Dawn?" Dean asked, trying (and failing) to wipe his tears from his eyes. He was never someone who liked to show his emotions, but when it was something so earth-shattering as this, it was impossible to put a lid on it.

"Not yet. I'm going to as soon as we finish up here."

"Should we leave?" Dean asked.

"Here?"

Dean nodded. "Go back to Minnesota to be closer to him?"

"Well, we're going to break him out as soon as we figure out a plan to get that done. It won't be as easy with the guards being on higher alert."

"Yeah, right," Dean said, shaking his head. "Of course."

"It will be fine, Dean. Somehow, someway."

* * *

The routine was awfully familiar to Caleb by now, as he rode in the uncomfortable police car with his hands behind him. It made that much more unpleasant when he was practically sitting on top of his hands, but there was nothing he could do to change that for himself, and though he would have loved to have told them the truth about everything, about the charges, and about the real reason why he had broken out, he knew that would only earn him a spot in the nearest mental institution and not actual freedom.

All along he had known the risk of running, and though it had been something that had been a distinct possibility, being arrested again, it had all been worth if it meant that their family could be together again, could be free of being forced apart by well-meaning people who had no idea that they were creating more harm than good.

When the police car reached the county jail where he would be staying until his court appearance that would determine if and when he would face extradition, he sighed, well aware of what would follow when the officers walked around to his side to let him out.

Scooting himself as far as he dared, he let them guide him the rest of the way out as they walked him over to a corrections officer who led him inside the main booking area of the station. Sometimes people had to wait a long time for the different steps to be completed, but the station was mostly empty early in the morning, and he was glad for that as they led him over to the counter to get his information, and personal artifacts.

"Alright," the officer said, "I'm going to take these cuffs off, but when I do, you need to put your hands on the counter in front of you, do you understand?"

Caleb nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat. "Yes."

Waiting while the officer unlocked the cuffs, he immediately did what he was told and put them on the counter in front, not willing to be the tough guy and defy authority. He knew what happened to those people, and it wasn't pretty when they were put in the isolation cells to wait out the rest of the booking procedure.

"Now I need you to take off the leather bracelet you have on, and the watch."

He obeyed as he slipped off the requested items and placed them on the counter.

"Now I need you to lean down and take off your shoes."

Caleb nodded, as he carefully did what he was told.

"Thank you. Now we need some personal information for our records, and then we'll go ahead and do the mug-shots and finger-prints."

It was something he was used to from the other times he had been in jail, but somehow the shock and the upset of it never failed to leave his mind as he posed for the pictures, and then gave them the prints that they needed.

After that, he was allowed to trade his "street clothes" for the jail clothes, and go to a holding cell until he could be assigned a more permanent one sometime later in the day.

Even though he hated the isolation from the rest of society, it was a relief to be allowed to sink down into the cold and impersonal cot and just be for a little while. The first thing he knew he would do once he was allowed inside a cell block, would be to use the phone to call the boys.

If he knew them, which he did, he knew that they would be panicking at the idea that he had been taken again. Especially Dean. It broke his heart clean in two when he thought of them, and the upset that they were going through, but he knew there was little he could do about it.

At least, in the face of so much pain and confusion, Bobby was with them and not in the same boat as he was in now.


	6. Chapter 6

Beneath the mind-blowing numbness that had immediately settled in once the initial shock of Caleb's arrest had worn off, Dean could feel his heart breaking apart at the seams by what had happened to his beloved guardian. It had been a miracle to get him out the _first_ time and be reunited with him, now he was being faced with losing him again, to an enemy that was all too human, and all too incapable of seeing the truth for what it _really_ was.

When Bobby had pulled the hatch up and had allowed he and Sam to come up from their hideout, he had known something was wrong by the way that Caleb was absent from the reunion, and the way that Bobby kept skirting around the issue until he had finally broken down and told them the heartbreaking truth.

It had always been a long-shot to be on the run, to live life on the lam where any number of things could happen, but even though that had always been on the forefront of his mind for those number of months that they had managed it, Dean had eventually fallen into a false sense of security that had protected him from the worst of the doubt that had clearly clouded his guardian's eyes on the worst days.

To him, it wasn't possible that he would go through losing him again. It was as if the universe was designing itself around him in the worst possible way, and that it thought he _deserved_ to go through this pain of being separated from him when Caleb meant so much to he _and_ to Sam.

Immediately following his original breakdown upon hearing the news, he had managed to forcibly calm himself down to the point where his tears had dried (for the moment) and he had decided to go and lay down on the sofa, instead of following his initial instincts which had been to close himself off in his room again, something that he had been prone to do when the stresses and heartbreak of life got to be too much for him.

Bobby was on the phone with Dawn. The living room was adjacent to the kitchen and he could hear Bobby's end of the conversation pretty well, as he briefly explained to her what had happened, and if she could come to South Dakota if at all possible. From the way he exhaled in relief, and gave her directions, it was clear that she had agreed to the meeting.

It didn't do much for him. Not when he knew that it would take more than a powerhouse attorney to eliminate the threat of extradition, which would take Caleb back to Minnesota to either serve out the remainder of his original two year sentence for kidnapping, or have extra charges tacked on that would increase the time spent behind bars.

And then there was the very real threat of Bobby being charged in connection with Caleb's escape. Just because the police hadn't chosen to arrest him _then_, didn't mean that future retribution was out of the question, not when it was a serious possibility that they would look through the lies that Caleb and Bobby had told the police upon his arrest, and decide to pursue the case further.

That was the worst case reality for Dean, and something that he tried his hardest to forget as he curled his knees up close to his chest. If he and Sam lost Bobby, too, he didn't know what would happen, only that he wouldn't allow them to be separated and forced into the foster care system. They would run before they let something like that happen to them.

And then they ran the high risk of being seen by the demon that had been haunting them since the time it had sneaked into Sam's nursery and fed him demon blood to make him good and strong for whatever twisted demon army he wanted him to lead. At least in South Dakota, and even somewhat in Minnesota, they were protected against the demon from the wards that Bobby had installed on the house. The iron and salt would make it impossible for the demon to break through and stage another kidnapping or attack.

Taking a deep breath, he looked over when Sam decided to come back out of his room and join him. Right after their 'meeting' with Bobby had ended, Sam had done something that his older brother would have normally done, and had gone to his room to silently process all the wealth of information that Bobby had just given to them.

"Hey," Dean said, his voice rough from the endless amount of tears he had expelled since Bobby had delivered the horrifying blow to their lives. "I was wondering when you'd come out of exile."

"I was reading," Sam replied.

"What?"

"My books for school."

"_Why_?"

"I don't know. Something to distract me?" Sam guessed, not entirely sure _why_ he had chosen to study at a time when their entire world was going up in flames again. "I can't stand the idea of Caleb being treated like that when he doesn't deserve it."

"Yeah," Dean said, as he pretended to examine a cuticle. "Join the club, bro."

Sam had been shielded up until that point from experiencing most of what he had gone through the numerous times the law had decided to make a target out of Caleb, but now it was like a switch had been flipped on, and Sam was beginning to understand what that hell was like for Dean.

It wasn't pretty, and it was something that Dean would have given anything to have protected him from, but that was impossible, not unless the police could miraculously come to their senses and release him before any more damage was done to their family.

"Why won't they understand?" Sam pressed, clearly struggling to understand something that was completely _beyond_ comprehension, it was even something that Dean had struggled with, understanding the whys of the situation.

"Because they have evidence to back up what they're saying. They don't know what we know, they don't know about the evil that's out there. All they know is that he escaped, and he was convicted of kidnapping us. It's all black and white to them."

It wasn't fair, and it sucked, but that was the honest truth of the matter. The police and DA had no way of knowing that they were harassing an innocent man and family. It was one of the many pitfalls of their life, when the authorities refused to listen to reason because of something they weren't able to see.

"Caleb would never hurt us or kidnap us," Sam said, "and yet they convict him of the most serious charge?"

"Because they thought they had enough evidence, I guess. I don't know why," Dean said, shaking his head, "and thinking about what went through that jury's brain, is just going to give me a headache."

"Who's Bobby talking to?" Sam asked, swiveling his head around to the direction of the kitchen where Bobby was still deep in conversation with Dawn.

"Dawn. He's trying to get her over here so she can help us better."

"Good. Is he going to go to jail _here_?" Sam asked, as he leaned foreword to grab one of his toys.

"Probably not for long. There will be some court hearing about taking him back to Minnesota to face the charges, but he was originally sentenced there, so they'll want him back."

Having Caleb face a probable return to the prison that he had been sentenced to when the misguided judge had given him two years for his perceived role in kidnapping them, would be the only reason why Dean would return to Minnesota to be closer to him.

Minnesota was where he had grown up for nearly eight years ever since Caleb and Jim had taken over responsibility for he and his brother, and had gone to court and gotten custody of them. He had many wonderful memories of his old school (before they had ratted them out and started their nightmare) and more importantly, his friends.

Even though he couldn't come close to telling them the secrets that he lived with in hunting with his family, he had still been able to form bonds with them that were based off fun and jokes and laughter, and girls.

But all that had been before the school had dropped the ball on them, and had made it impossible to stay there due to the feelings that now existed in the school and especially with the principle that had made the first call to CPS, starting their horrible streak of bad luck with the courts.

"Are we going back?" Sam asked, voicing the exact thought that had been on Dean's mind as he focused intently on his big brother.

"I don't know yet. I don't want to, but if it means being closer to him, than I guess I will. It all depends on what Dawn says, if she even comes here."

She was based primarily in Minnesota, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't go a little out of her way if it meant being there for Caleb's court appearances that would ultimately determine his fate, especially since their relationship extended far beyond attorney/client and into actual _friendship_.

"Right-"

"Hey, guys," Bobby said, as he finally got off the phone and came into the room. "I just got off the phone with Dawn."

"What—what did she say?" Dean asked, as he paused momentarily in his speech to regain control over his fractured emotions.

Even though he knew that they would, somehow, come up with a plan to free Caleb, it was still devastating to imagine him being in the position of having to be in restraints everywhere he went, and have his movements controlled by unsympathetic corrections officers who believed only what they were told by the higher ups that were above them.

"I only told her a little bit of what happened in case someone was listening in," Bobby explained, "but she's coming over here later today. I gave her directions."

Dean nodded. "Cool. Does she know that Caleb was arrested?"

"Not exactly. I told her that we had a situation here that we needed her help with. She said that she could be here later today. I told her where we were, and gave her directions."

Dean nodded, trying to make himself feel a small measure of comfort that Dawn would be there soon enough to help them figure out the situation they had suddenly been thrust into. If anyone could mitigate any possible charges against Caleb, it would be her. "What will she be able to do?"

"I don't know, to be honest," Bobby said honestly, "but we're going to sit down and hash out a plan if we can, and see what her take on all this is."

"Do you think she'll be able to convince a judge to let go of the escape charge?"

Bobby shrugged, lifting one shoulder. "I don't know. There's only so much she can do when he was caught red-handed."

"True. I know."

It was hard to see it their way when he knew the truth better than anyone, but there was nothing he could do to change their warped opinions of him.

"Sam," Bobby said, turning to address the silent nine-year-old. "How are you doing with all this, bud?"

Sam didn't answer as he bent his head low to focus on the toy that he was playing with. This was something that was completely new territory for him. It had scared him greatly when the cops had suddenly showed up at the door, and he had been forced to hide in the cellar with his brother.

Before, it had been something that he had been aware of, but had never gone through before until then. He was still trying to process the shock of it all, and especially with the knowledge that Caleb had been taken for something that he had never even done.

"I don't know," Sam finally replied, when it was clear that Bobby was still expecting an answer. "I miss him. I don't—I don't understand why he has to be punished for something he did out of love, and out of keeping us safe."

"Well, Sam," Bobby said, trying to formulate the words needed to at least _attempt_ to explain all this to him. "The police, they're doing everything they think they need to be doing right now. To them, Caleb is an escaped convict, and even though _we_ know that's not all there is to it, they don't."

"Aren't they supposed to help people?"

"They are."

"Then why do they keep going after good people like him? And us?"

"It's something that we run into as hunters," Bobby said. "Things that would be considered illegal, the things that we do, that we _have_ to do, they don't understand. To them, we're just a bunch of crazed criminals who need to be locked up, but they don't understand the danger they're putting us in, and other people in as well."

"How is he going to get out?"

"That's the big question mark right now. I'm going to do everything I can to make that happen again, but it won't be as easily done as it was before all this."

"I know."

* * *

It was nerve-wracking waiting for Dawn to arrive. It had been awhile since Dean had seen her, not since before Caleb had managed his escape from the prison. As he stood waiting for her, he didn't know what she would be able to do to help them. It wasn't like there was any doubt that he had escaped, and had now been captured, but she had tricks up her sleeve that most attorney's didn't, and that was what he was counting on now.

She was an excellent attorney, and someone who would be able to bring them out of the mess they had found themselves in. It was clear that Bobby was feeling some of the same tension that _he_ was feeling from the way he kept glancing anxiously at his watch, counting down the minutes before the punctual attorney showed up at their door.

When the doorbell finally _did_ ring, Dean jumped as Bobby got up from his place to answer it. As he listened to them conversing calmly with each other, he tried to contain the nervous energy that he felt as he waited for Dawn to walk into the living room where he and Bobby had been sitting restlessly before she had arrived.

Dean tried to meet her greeting smile when she walked into the room, but it was hard as he stood to give her a hug, before sitting back down. Sam had gone into his room, obviously not comfortable enough with her yet to be out there when his emotions would be flying all over the place.

"So," Dawn said, "Bobby was telling me that this is a safe house against demons?"

It hadn't been too long that Dawn had been "in the know" about the supernatural, and while she had taken the undeniable shock like a pro, Dean knew that there were still questions she had about their life, and some that she may never even think to ask, or know about.

It had been a big step entrusting an "outsider" with that kind of information, but it had ended up helping them in the long run.

"Yeah," Dean said, as he rested his arms across his chest. "This place is built mostly on iron, and iron is known for guarding against them."

"Against the demons?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. And salt, we have salt bags in every room, and we have traps that the demons can't escape out from under."

"That's incredible. So you're really safe here from them."

"Yeah," Bobby said. "It's proved to be a nifty place for us to hide."

"I guess so. So what's going on? I know you didn't feel like you could tell me over the phone, but what's up?"

It was true. Bobby had been afraid of someone listening in to the call, so he hadn't divulged the exact reason why he had needed her to come, just that it was important and he needed to speak with her.

"The police showed up here today," Bobby said, leaning foreword as he clasped his hands together.

"Really?" she said, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "How did they know-"

"Someone tipped them off," Dean interjected with a scoff. "There's a cellar in one of the closets, and Sam and I hid there while Bobby and Caleb talked to them."

"So what happened?" Dawn asked.

"Caleb hid in one of the other closets," Bobby said, "he didn't want to hide with the boys because he was afraid of them seeing the cops arrest him."

Dean hadn't been privy to that information before, and though it didn't surprise him when he knew how protective Caleb was over he and Sam. It didn't matter what the situation was, or what the threat happened to be, if there was something that would be directly harmful to them, he put himself absolutely last in favor of making sure that they were safe.

It broke his heart when he realized the extent of how far he would go to make sure he and his brother were safe, even going so far as to putting himself in the cop's way and getting arrested.

"Dean?" Dawn said, seeing the stricken look on his face, as a single tear slid down his face. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

"I...I didn't know that before," he said, looking past her and focusing on Bobby.

"I didn't think it was important to mention at the time."

And probably because he would know how much that would upset him, and how much guilt that would cause Dean, which he was absolutely right.

"And the cops didn't find the boys?" Dawn asked.

Bobby shook his head. "They walked right past it. Never saw it."

"Wow."

"I know. The question that I have, is what's going to happen from here?"

"Well," Dawn said, switching into "attorney" mode. "Depending on what the judge wants to do with this, there will either be an arraignment for the new charges, or there will be an extradition hearing to determine if he can live out his sentence _here_, or be forced back to the prison in Minnesota."

"What can you do to keep him here?" Bobby asked.

"Not a lot, to be honest, but I can make a special case because of the boys."

"Okay, and what about any new charges for the escape?"

"I still have to get hold of the new documents in the case, but it's always a possibility that a prosecutor out for blood, will want to charge him with escape because of the fact that he was able to get away with it for so long."

"Yeah, and our luck has gone to crap when it comes to those prosecutors," Dean said, shaking his head in irritation at the corrupt DA's who thought it was their job to make their lives a living hell.

"Well, hopefully we can find the _right_ one."

* * *

It had been a little over twenty-four hours since his arrest for the escape charge that had been hanging over his head since he had done the actual deed. For Caleb, even if he had known the eventual outcome of doing something so completely risky, he knew that he wouldn't change a thing because it gave him more time with the boys, and it gave them a chance to form a stronger unit against the demons that kept going after their family.

Still, it wasn't easy readjusting to living life behind bars again. In hindsight, he knew that it was something he should have been well used to by now from the many stints he had done behind bars because of his own horrible luck when it concerned the law enforcement, but he could never quite get used to the indescribable feeling of being locked behind a door and only being allowed out to get a food tray and then walk right back to his cell.

The guards mostly left him alone, for which he was grateful. The less interruptions he got, the better as he far as he was concerned. While it wasn't their fault that he was where he was, it was still disconcerting to know that there was nothing he could do to escape the current situation until a serious miracle was pulled off for him.

So far he hadn't been allowed phone rights yet. That came after inmates passed a certain waiting period where they weren't a disruption to the staff or other inmates, and then they could be allowed the opportunity to call home and talk to their loved ones.

Living with the promise of being allowed contact with the boys, was the only thing that kept his head down as he waited for the automatic restriction to be lifted for him.

On the second day of his incarceration, the guards came to his cell door earlier than he expected since it wasn't the lunch hour yet, and breakfast had ended a few hours previously.

When they restrained him again, he tried not to let it show on his face how hard that was for him as they led him down a hallway toward one of the many rooms they had for private meetings. Trying not to get his hopes up for anything, he waited until the guard had opened the door and when he did, he felt an almost immediate relief cross through his features.

"Hi, Caleb."

"Dawn?"


	7. Chapter 7

Words could not properly convey the amount of relief and elation Caleb felt at _finally_ locking gazes with his attorney/friend. It had been awhile since he had last seen her in person, not since before he had staged his fateful escape plan with Jefferson, but he had always managed to keep in fairly regular contact with her to find out whether or not the authorities had ever managed to find out his location or not, and even though they had ambushed him, it wasn't anything she could have prevented and he didn't hold it against her, as the guards led him over to the one small table that was positioned right in the middle of the room.

Once they had finally gotten him seated, the two of them watched silently as they gave Caleb a look of warning before finally leaving the room to allow them to converse in private. It was a right that he was entitled to have, and that was the one thing he was truly grateful for as he stretched out his cuffed hands on the tabletop.

It wasn't easy to adjust to all the heightened security measures, but he knew that they didn't know the difference from someone who was truly _guilty_, versus someone who was actually _innocent_ and being framed for the brutal crimes against him.

Sighing deeply in both exhaustion and worry, he finally found enough strength within himself to face her. Over the course of their nearly nine year friendship when she had been instrumental in helping him escape serious murder charges after his wife had been killed, they had grown more comfortable with one another, and though there had been many times when he had been forced to lie to her for his own safety in staying under the radar, he had always been as truthful as he felt was safe, and the same principal had always applied until he had found enough courage to confide in the supernatural with her.

Since then, the friendship they shared had only deepened with the knowledge that Dawn now possessed about her client, and the unusual circumstances that he had that explained why he had become such a target for the law enforcement in their area. Before, it had honestly confused her, now it all made perfect sense, and she had been willing to not only put her job on the line to make sure that he was able to escape from the prison, but she had put her life on the line as well with the knowledge that she would be charged in connection with his escape if the DA ever put two and two together.

Dawn was definitely a lifesaver to him, and a permanent part of his life.

Having her there in the midst of his legal nightmare that had only _just_ started, was a relief to him. At least he could rest easy knowing that someone wonderful had his (and the boys') backs, and could be counted on to pull out all the stops to make sure that his case was tried fairly and without fear the prosecution railroading the entire thing, and creating more legal hell for him.

For a moment, he almost didn't know what to say to her. So much had happened since he had last seen her that it was sort of giving him a headache, but he shoved as much of the physical side effects as far back as he could as he focused on having a normal conversation with her, and hearing about the latest status for his hearings, and what would be the next step in all this.

"So," he said, trying to put together the words needed to address her, even though he could feel his composure shaking as he struggled to hold it together. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," Dawn replied, giving him an easy smile. "It's been awhile, Caleb. I don't really have to ask how you are because it's written all over your face."

Caleb nodded; he was unable to see his face for himself, but he was sure of how it looked and he knew it wouldn't be pretty. He had barely slept since being integrated back into the jail, and so far most of the food had made him want to throw up.

"It's been...it's been really _hard_," he said, his voice breaking despite his best efforts to control it.

It was the product of staying strong for so long, and against odds that would make most weaker men crumble, and it was also the pressure of knowing that he had tried so hard to make it as an escaped convict and be on the move constantly, and even though he had succeeded largely until the other day, it was exhausting, and it was all finally catching up to him.

"I'm so sorry. I talked to Bobby a few days ago and he told me everything that happened."

"It happened so fast, Dawn."

"They wanted to get you by surprise so they wouldn't give you a chance to run again."

"Yeah," Caleb said, with a scoff, "it worked."

"Maybe not for long," she said quietly, hoping to get his mind centered on something _other_ than the fact that he was back behind bars, even though there was nothing that would really distract him from that devastating fact once he was done with their meeting.

"What do you mean?" he asked, as he used his hand to wipe some of the tears away.

"We have a hearing in the morning," she warned, seeing the way that his body automatically tensed in response to the hell of being transported in chains, only to have to hear the heartbreaking news that he would either be brought back to Minnesota, or be allowed to stay in the prison there, but have the extra charge of escape tacked on to his rap sheet.

It wasn't a good outlook either way he looked.

"What—what kind of hearing?" he asked, surprised that he was even able to carry on a conversation with how shaken he was.

"Um...it's going to be a combined arraignment on the new escape charges, and it will be a placement hearing to determinate whether or not the judge thinks it will be appropriate to send you back to the prison there, or keep you somewhere in South Dakota."

"Well," Caleb said, with a short laugh, trying to find some humor in the spot he was in. "They obviously didn't do too great of a job keeping me locked up there, so maybe I'll finally get some good news."

"You want to be in South Dakota?"

Caleb nodded. "If I have to be anywhere, I want it to be somewhere close to the kids and so they won't have to leave the safe house and go back home where they're not as well protected."

"I'll definitely see what I can do."

"Dawn, what do you think the judge will do with all this?"

"I think that he'll be upset that you escaped, to be honest, and I don't know if he'll be lenient enough to forgo the escape charge. You were extremely fortunate to get the two year sentence, and he might consider that a slap in the face and tack on _more_ time with the other charge."

"So I screwed myself by doing what I did," Caleb surmised, shaking his head in complete incredulity at the rapid turn of events his life had taken recently. The decision to run had been made with the intention of keeping their family together, and creating a stronger unit against the demon that was after Sam, but it had turned into something he wasn't altogether prepared to face.

"Maybe not. We don't know what the judge will decide. The fact that you went willingly and without resisting, is something that I will ask the judge to factor when he makes his final determination."

"What about what the police are saying? And the DA?"

"They filled out their report and handed it over to the judge. It basically says that they caught you and they brought you back here to the detention center."

Caleb nodded. "Anything else?"

"No."

"I guess that they got their tip—off from some girl," Caleb said, shrugging. "I don't know who could have seen us, but that's what they said."

"A girl?"

Caleb nodded. "Yeah. Some girl who lives in the area, reportedly saw me."

"I'll look into it," Dawn promised. "It should be in the police report, but if the informant requested protection it could be something else that I'd have to go through to get the information."

"Well, if it was just some regular situation where I was a complete idiot and escaped, I'd say 'don't worry about it' but this could be a demon related problem, so if you could find out who this was, I'd be grateful."

"I'll do what I can."

"What can I expect from the hearing?" Caleb asked, after a moment of silent contemplation on the matter.

He had been through countless hearings related to his various legal problems, and while he had long ago gotten used to the idea of being expected to withstand the mental anguish that going to those hearings all the time, presented, he wanted to know if anything would be different because of his status as an escaped convict.

"The level of security will be heightened considerably," Dawn said, phrasing her words carefully so he wouldn't get as upset. "There will be more guards in the room probably, and one will be right on you all the time."

Caleb nodded, heaving a deep sigh. "Okay, what else?"

"You'll be wearing regular jail clothes instead of the street clothes because this isn't a hearing that's supposed to be determined in front of a jury. The judge has the sole discretion right now."

"Will I be in restraints the whole time?"

"Yes."

"_Great_," he said with a groan.

He hated being in that position, and the fear of being trapped when, as a hunter, it was his very instinct to look out for threats that were unseen to the naked human eye. If he was in restraints, his ability to defend himself, would be drastically reduced.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he said smoothly, trying to fix her with one of his smiles, but failed miserably when he was brutally reminded of how much things would have to change and go in his favor before he could even _begin_ to fantasize about the impossible dream of finally escaping again.

"I still don't like seeing you like this."

"Join the club."

"I'd rather not," she said with a short laugh.

"I don't blame you. Have you heard anything about what the DA is going to do about Bobby?"

The biggest fear for him was that Bobby would be arrested and charged in relation to his escape. In particular, knowing where he had been hiding the entire time, and failing to notify authorities of his location. Even though the cops had opted not to take him in when they had arrested Caleb, that didn't mean the DA wouldn't decide to do things differently than the police.

"I haven't yet. I know they submitted a report to them, but I haven't heard back about anything related to him."

"What about the boys? Are they okay for right now?"

"In terms of Bobby keeping custody?"

A single nod in answer.

"For right now, yes. If he hasn't been charged with a crime, family court won't have a reason to get involved."

"Okay."

* * *

Even though it had been a few days since Caleb had been arrested and charged with his escape from the prison, it didn't make it any easier on Dean. In fact, the prolonged separation made it _worse_ on him in the end as he tried to maintain some semblance of a normal life while waiting for word on whether or not his hearing would succeed or not.

Sam had adopted the same kind of attitude that he had. Though he was still the bright-eyed and bubbly kid that he had been before the cops had showed up at their door, there was a marked difference in his attitude and demeanor overall, and that made Dean sick for his brother, that he was beginning to know what it felt like to lose someone so suddenly, and in such tragic and unfair circumstances.

Bobby tried to be as big a help as he could be in helping them overcome the initial phases of their anger and shock, and while he had done his best, there was nothing that he could completely do to lift the wall of sadness and devastation that had followed Dean since hearing the news about his arrest.

The only thing that would come close to tempering the gaping wound that he could feel in the pit of his stomach, was for a chance to either see or speak with him. It had been something that had held him over during the three long months that he had been locked up for the original abuse and kidnapping charges, and he was hopeful that he would soon be allowed those privileges once again.

In the meantime, he had to put up with the near constant reminders of Caleb's absence, which were everywhere from the conspicuously empty bedroom that had been his, to the study where he most often kept his research supplies, and could often be counted on to be in there looking up a new case, or even in the kitchen and living rooms where he would play board games with the boys, and then in the kitchen around the table where they did their schoolwork and ate their meals like a typical family.

It was definitely the little stuff as much as it was the big stuff.

Sniffling back the fresh round of tears, he gritted his teeth with a noticeable click as he refocused his efforts on drawing something on the driveway with chalk. Now that they weren't as concerned about hiding anymore, Bobby had allowed the boys to go out in the yard to run around.

The entire property surrounding the house was warded against demonic threats. A railroad track that had been made of iron stopped just before the entrance to their home, and while it was annoying having to hear the endless amount of trains that went by on a rotating basis, it was nice to have that extra level of security.

"What are you kids drawing?" Bobby asked, as he looked up from the leaves he had been raking.

"A crappy Ninja," Dean said, looking up at Bobby.

"I'm drawing Spiderman," Sam said, showing off the confection of red and blue that were the hero's signature colors.

"Both are very nice, very creative," Bobby said.

"It's nice that you lie to protect us, Bobby, but you can tell me it's crap," Dean said, allowing an actual smile to grace his features, even though he knew that it would most likely be temporary, something that would disappear the second that he was reminded again of the fact that Caleb wasn't there.

"I speak nothing but the truth."

Grinning, Dean helped Bobby as he finished up the yard work and then the three of them went back in the house for some much deserved soup and crackers for all their hard work.

It was a nice, quiet lunch, and that was something that Dean needed, even if it wasn't consciously aware of that fact yet.


	8. Chapter 8

It was hard to get used to the feeling of being transported in chains to the local courthouse, even if it was something that Caleb should have ago gotten used to when he had gotten his first taste of the corrupt justice system during his arrest for allegedly murdering his wife. It was still something that never failed to give him a shock when the guards were dead serious in placing him in restraints because they assumed he was dangerous, someone who had escaped from police custody and now needed an extra security detail to follow him all over the place.

The morning of his crucial arraignment and placement hearing had dawned bright and early. It was routine for the inmates who had hearings to be woken up earlier so that they could eat faster and be restrained and out to the vehicles for the transport process. It was disgusting, something that made him sick when he knew that he didn't _deserve_ any of this crap that was being put down on his shoulders, but he gritted his teeth as hard as he could and silently bared the humiliation of it all as the guards led him over to the police car and helped him smoothly slide in.

As the car started up and drove down the empty streets toward the county courthouse, he leaned his head back against the rough plastic of the seat and tried to imagine a positive outcome for the morning as he swallowed back the fleeting moment of nausea that flushed through his system at the thought of what could happen that day.

Either this judge would be willing to be lenient and allow him to remain in the custody of the South Dakota justice system, or he would drop the ball on him _again_ and order him to be extradited back to Minnesota to serve out the original portion of his sentence.

The location was what mattered to Caleb. He didn't want to be further separated from the boys, and he didn't want to have to make them choose between staying in the relative safety of the safe house, or travel back to Minnesota in order to be closer to him. It wasn't a right or fair position for them to have to be placed in, and he hoped that Dawn would be able to convince a judge of the same thing that he was thinking.

He hoped that Dawn would be able to make a strong enough case for the judge to consider seeing it his way, and allow him to stay in the safety of South Dakota, where the boys would be safe, and where there wouldn't need to be anymore upheaval in their lives, especially with him being gone now.

When the car finally turned right into the underground parking garage for the courthouse, he tensed, trying to prepare himself as much as he possibly could for what would happen next as he waited for the officers to open the door, and allow him to scoot out.

Doing so carefully, he let them guide him the rest of the way as they walked with him up to the second floor where the hearing would be held that morning. Walking down the pure white hallway of empty holding cells that were directly adjacent to the courtroom, he waited for the door to be opened before walking inside.

The sound of the door slamming shut resounded off his ears as he sank down carefully onto the clear white bench with the meager lunch that they had supplied him with. It was hard to eat when he was still in cuffs, but it saved the guards the time of reapplying them when they came back to get him when his case was called.

Picking at the stale sandwich that he had been so _kindly_ gifted with, he tried to choke it down but failed and eventually gave up on the concept of eating until he returned to the jail where their food was at least somewhat passable for an actual _meal_. Rubbing his hands over his face, he couldn't help but glance at the clock that hung outside the cell. It was making him antsy, not being able to know what was going on with his case, and though he knew that it hadn't started yet, just the unknown of what would happen, was driving him crazy.

He would have paced, something that was commonly known to help him think and put everything in perspective while he waited, but his ankles were shackled still. It made the whole idea entirely unappealing and so he didn't, as he waited for the guards to come back to retrieve him.

When it finally _did_ happen, he was relieved when they slid open his cell door and gripped him by the arm as they led him down the long hallway until they reached the large courtroom where his critical hearing would be held.

This was the first time he would be expected to be in the room with his jail clothes on. Usually he was allowed to wear a suit or something that would pass off for respectable, but since there was no doubt about his guilt in this matter, there was no need for him to change, or for the restraints to come off like they normally would have when he first walked in.

His eyes automatically soaring past the judge who was already in the room waiting for him, he looked for Dawn who was already seated at the defense table, and looked up at the sound of his approach as she stood to stand beside him as they faced the judge.

Caleb noticed that instead of retreating like they normally would have, one guard stayed behind him and kept a tight hand on the back of his waist chain, obviously anticipating the moment where he would try to stage another grand escape.

As _if_.

He wanted out of the claustrophobic setting of the detention center, but there was no way he was foolish enough to try anything in a room full of officers who would pounce on him the _second_ he moved the wrong muscle.

Taking a deep breath he looked over at Dawn, and gave her a tight smile. With the guard standing right behind him, it was impossible to conduct a real conversation with her like he normally would have. Instead, he settled for waiting for the judge to address them, and for Dawn to get her chance to speak after the prosecution had gotten their chance.

"Good morning," the judge began, as he addressed the room at large. "We are here to formally arraign you, Mr. Rivers, on the charge of escape from the Minnesota Department of Corrections, and also to discuss your placement in regards to where you will serve out the original portion of your sentence."

Caleb nodded, trying to be as respectful as possible, even though the whole thing was making him sick. Especially when he knew how the prosecution would blow everything out of perspective, and make him out to be the monster that he so clearly _wasn't_.

And he was absolutely right as the prosecutor in the case, Jeff Michaels, lambasted him with the proof that he had escaped from a secure prison, that he had no respect for the law or the court that had imposed the sentence, and should be given the maximum penalty.

"Your Honor," Dawn said, once she had been given _her_ chance to speak. "It is indisputable that Mr. Rivers escaped from the Minnesota State Prison, but even though he did this, when he was arrested, he did not resist, he was very cooperative and remains to this day, cooperative with any and all legal issues concerning this case.

Was it idiotic to escape? Yes. Was it done for reasons that the State cannot _possibly_ comprehend? Absolutely. In regards to his placement, I stress the importance of him being allowed to stay here and serve out his sentence in a facility in or near Sioux Falls. In all of this, we cannot forget the children that are involved in this mess, and the devastation that this would place on them if they had to move back home to Minnesota to be closer to someone they both _adore_."

It was a good argument, but he knew she needed to really drive home the importance of _why_ he shouldn't face extradition, and even though it was entirely possible that the judge would ignore her anyway, he was hoping that she would put on a strong enough case to make a lasting impression on him.

"The children are being cared for by Mr. Bobby Singer," the prosecution interjected. "This should have no bearing on whether or not he gets placed in a facility here or in Minnesota."

"What I am _saying_," Dawn said, her patience clearly wearing thin with the man standing behind the opposite table. "Is that they have already formed bonds with the defendant that should be taken into account when determining placement."

"Let's not also forget that the reason he was sentenced to the prison term is _because_ he was convicted of kidnapping the children that counsel is saying he is _so_ attached to."

"I am requesting that he be placed in a facility here," Dawn said, finishing up her argument. "We recognize what he did as being wrong, and we are asking for some leniency, and for Your Honor to consider dropping the escape charge, and reinstating the original sentence."

In the end, it was solely up for the judge to decide what retribution was important for Caleb to face. It was nerve-wracking when he was brutally reminded of the fact that he had, in the eyes of the prosecution and the court, spit in their faces when they had agreed on a light sentence, only for him to go and escape from something that had been so willingly given in the first place.

The judge, from what Dawn had told him before the hearing had commenced, was someone who was fair, but not willing to put up with a ton of bull from either side. It was likely that he would be able to see right through what the prosecution was trying to pull, but also just as likely that he would find fault with the fact that he had escaped in the first place.

"Alright, Mr. Rivers, tell me why _you_ think I should forget about adding on additional charges and agree to just chalk this up to a bad month and send you to an appropriate correctional facility."

Caleb had known that there was a distinct chance that the judge might want to hear something from him, but he hadn't been expecting it today, and he honestly wasn't sure where to begin as he addressed the man in front of him.

"Your Honor-" the prosecution began, clearly not willing to let Caleb speak without a fight.

"Mr. Michaels, I am speaking to Mr. Rivers right now," the judge interjected. "You will have to wait your turn."

Furious and silently seething, the prosecutor sat back down in his seat. Trying to hide the exultant grin on his face that automatically made him like this judge for putting the prosecutor in his place, Caleb tried to think up the words needed to make a strong enough defense for himself.

"First of all," Caleb said, speaking directly from the heart with no script or card he was reading from. "I would like to take this time to apologize to you for this complete mess," he said with a laugh. "It wasn't my intention when I did what I did."

"What _was_ your intention?"

"Honestly? I wanted to protect these two boys that I have loved and cherished for almost _ten years._ There had been some threats that had been placed against our family for months now, and there had been nothing the police could have done to stop it, and I was just trying to make sure that the boys had someone else that was watching."

"What kind of threat are we talking about here?"

It was clear that he had captured the judge's attention, and though he knew that he would be stretching the truth right to the breaking point when it concerned the threats YED had made against their family, he was willing to carve and whittle until he had crafted something believable.

"The police in Minnesota are well aware of the fact that Sam was taken by an unknown abductor. He was found by us unharmed, but ever since then, we have received unwelcome and to be honest, terrifying correspondence from this person. That is why I tried to run with the boys before all this started, when I was first arrested, and that is why I left the prison this time."

"Why did you not report any of this to the local police department?"

"We were threatened if we were to do that," Caleb said, forcing himself to look the judge right in the face so that he wouldn't have any doubts as to the fact that he was being entirely truthful with him (or as truthful as he _could_ be).

"This person never left a name?"

"Only the first initial."

"Which was?"

"Y."

"So in an effort to make sure that the kids were safe, you staged a breakout and went on the run?"

"It was idiotic."

"When did you show up to be with the boys? The police report said that both you and Mr. Singer said that it was the day of the arrest?"

"Yes. I thought once the heat had died down, I could go and be with them. Bobby didn't know where I was or what I was doing, only that I had left the prison."

"Did he offer you any help?"

"No."

"Why do you think I should agree not to allow the escape charge onto your record?"

"Because even though I may have done that technically, the reasons were not what anyone, even you, would understand. I tried my hardest to explain all this to you, and all I can say is please give me a chance to at least be closer to these kids. We all love each other to death, and this has been just as hard on _them_ as it has been on me, I can tell you that for a fact."

"And why should you not be sent back to Minnesota?" the judge asked as he carefully listened to the reasons that Caleb was giving the court.

"For the same reasons I just implied. I want to be closer to them, and even if I may not be able to see them physically, I still want them to know that I'm close by for them."

It wasn't altogether surprising when the prosecution had a million different reasons as to why Caleb should not be allowed to serve out a sentence at a prison in South Dakota. One of the big ones, which made Caleb nervous as he looked over at Dawn, was that the only facility they had in or near Sioux Falls was minimum-security.

After the stunt he had pulled in escaping from custody, he knew that any place he was put in would have to be higher than that for the judge to be comfortable with sending him there.

"At the end of the day, you still committed a crime," the judge began, as he prepared to finalize his decision. "You escaped from a federal holding facility, and you ran for nearly two months."

Caleb nodded.

"I can, however, appreciate the 'special' circumstances surrounding this unusual case. I know from the police reports that were published after Sam Winchester was found, that the kidnapper was never recovered. I can understand the fear that went through your mind, but I also need to impress upon you how wrong it was to escape, no matter the reasoning."

"I'm sorry," Caleb said.

"What will change this time around if I agree to put you in one of the minimum-security facilities here? Why shouldn't I send you back to the maximum-security unit back in Minnesota?"

"To be honest, I know that I can't do this again," Caleb said, playing the part well, and knowing full well that he _would_ eventually. "I'm sorry for the problems this has caused."

"I will agree to place you in a facility here," the judge said, "you will stay in the detention center until a bed is available at one of the prisons in or near Sioux Falls. It will be up to them to decide which one will be suitable.

As to the charge of escape, the law is defined when it concerns this. I am going to make this clear right now that I am not trying to make an example out of you or punish you unduly for what has happened, since I'm a father and I can understand the need to protect a child or children that you love.

I could give you the maximum penalty for escaping and in this town, that would be five years added time. However, provided that you do not have any disciplinary action while in custody, I'll impose a sentence of an additional nine months spent in custody."

Two years and nine months. Almost a full three year sentence that had just been extended because of his foolish escape.

Caleb nodded, knowing that he should be lucky that he wasn't getting anything worse, even though it tore his heart that he would have to spend even more time away from the kids. It wasn't a pretty situation, and it was something that was honestly heartbreaking to him.

"Your Honor," Dawn said, "I know I can't change the sentence, but if and when the boys are allowed to come and visit him, can you implement some conditions that would make the use of shackles and handcuffs not necessary?"

"How old are the boys?"

"Nine and thirteen, but they both have a very strong connection with him, and if their guardian were to allow them to visit, it would be traumatizing to them to see him restrained like that."

"We can schedule another hearing on that matter," the judge said, "but for right now, there isn't enough time this morning."

"Okay, thank you."

* * *

The entire morning of Caleb's hearing for the escape charges, Dean was on edge. It was hard to know that someone he loved was being put in that kind of position, and he couldn't be there to hear the outcome of it. Bobby had been unable to go due to the fear that whoever had been the 'source' of the leak that had sent the police to their door, would be watching and use him leaving the boys as another excuse to rat them out again.

Instead, Bobby waited with the boys until the phone would ring with the call from Dawn that would clue them in on everything that had happened during that morning. Even though he would have liked for Bobby to have been there with Caleb, it made perfect sense that he didn't go when Bobby explained his reasoning behind it.

"How long is it going to last?" Sam asked, as he looked up from the picture that he had been doodling.

They had all gone in search of something to busy their minds with. It was useless when they knew that nothing could distract them from the overwhelming knowledge that a judge would either make or break the case, and would either allow Caleb the chance to stay close to them, or be shipped back off to Minnesota.

"I don't know yet," Bobby said, smiling down at him. "That's a good picture you're drawing."

"No, it's not," Sam said, not willing to be deterred from his intended subject matter. "How long does it usually last?"

"It honestly depends on a lot of things, Sam. It depends on when the case is called, and how much time the judge has to hear arguments."

"Do you know yet if he's going to be arraigned or if the judge will drop that charge?" Dean asked, as he looked up from the video game he had been playing.

"I have no idea. Dawn said she wouldn't know until she was actually inside the courtroom."

"Oh. Okay-"

He was cut off by the ringing of the phone next to them. Glancing at Bobby in poorly concealed expectation, they watched as he picked it up and spoke quietly to the person on the other end of the line. His face briefly registered surprise before it smoothed out into its normal look.

"Okay, yeah, sure. Dean," he said, holding the phone.

"Who is it?"

"It's Caleb."


	9. Chapter 9

Even though it had only been a few days since Dean and Caleb had seen each other before all the hell had been brought back down on their family and he had been taken back to jail for the escape charge, it had still been a few days _too_ long for Dean, who couldn't believe that they were back in the same boat when it concerned the cruel and unsympathetic law enforcement and their horrible, skewed opinions of their guardian, someone that he and Sam loved and cherished, and who had always been there for them for nearly nine years, and though the judge and the prosecutor could look at it through black and white glasses, he knew the truth better than anyone, and that was that they were loved by that man.

Someone who had put his life on hold to care for them, someone who had protected and loved them as if they were his own flesh and blood, someone who brought them up to have decent morals and values and to treat others with kindness and respect.

It was _that_ Caleb that Dean wished the police and judge would see, the man who had gone to jail for them so that they wouldn't have to face seeing him carted off in handcuffs, and even though he would have been fine had he decided to hide with he and Sam, he hadn't wanted to risk the police finding the opening that led down to the cellar where he was, and he didn't want the boys to see that sight of him hauled off in cuffs.

For days, Dean had both been dreading and anticipating being able to speak with him again, to hear his voice through the other end of the line, and even though it didn't come close to scratching the surface of what it would be like to finally see him again, at least he was getting something close to satisfaction and comfort by being able to speak with him.

It was emotional, though. As he took the phone from Bobby with trembling hands, he tried to forget the fact of where he was. He tried to imagine, instead, that he was at one of the many nameless motels that he had traveled at during a job, and they were simply saying goodnight to each other before bed like they always did with each other.

It was too painful to imagine him being in a jail where he wouldn't be treated well, and would be looked at like the person who had escaped from custody, never mind the fact that his stint in the Minnesota prison hadn't even been deserved or warranted.

Shaking his head of those depressing thoughts, knowing it wouldn't do him any good to dwell on something he had no control over, he turned his attention and thoughts over to the conversation that he would have with Caleb, determined that it would be a good one and not something that he would regret having later on when the pain of not having him around, simply got to be too much for him to handle.

Clearing his throat as he turned away from his brother and Bobby's careful, watchful gazes, he put the phone to his ear as he finally prepared himself to have that conversation with his guardian, who had always been that for him no matter what the courts or the judge thought about it.

"Hey, stranger," he said, finally fighting up the courage to speak to him, and even force a smile on his face to pull off the carefully prepared facade. "Long time, no talk."

On the other end, he could hear Caleb laugh, and that was something that he had been waiting to hear, even if he hadn't consciously been aware of it at the time. It wasn't easy to be in his shoes, but he couldn't _imagine_ being in Caleb's, where he had to sit in a cell for hours every day, and then have to face the endless night if sleep turned out to be an impossibility.

_Hey, dude. I know, it's been _way _too long. _

"Yeah," Dean said, as he raised his hand to scrub the single tear that slid down his cheek. "Three whole days. _Wow_," he said dryly.

_It's still the truth. I don't care if it's been seven hours or seven _days_. I still miss you and your brother like there's no freakin' tomorrow. _

"We miss you, too. A _lot_."

That was the understatement of the century as far as he was concerned, but it was the only statement that came close to being somewhat in the range of truth. He missed everything _about _Caleb, but he missed the little things as much as he did the big things, and those were the hardest.

_I wish I could be there with you guys right now. Last night, when I was lying down, I tried to guess what you two were doing. I think I came pretty close actually. _

"We were outside with Bobby raking leaves," Dean said, as he took a seat at the kitchen counter. "Or _he _was, and Sam and I were messing around with the chalk sticks."

_Hmm...well, that's not _exactly _what I was thinking, but I knew that Bobby wanted to get those leaves done. _

"Yeah," Dean said with a laugh. "He's only talked about it for _weeks _and _weeks_," he said, as he turned to face Bobby knowingly.

_Yeah, right_, Caleb said with a laugh. _So tell me what you and Sam drew out there. _

"Nothing that grand. I drew some stupid Ninja turtle, and Sam drew Spiderman."

_I bet they were good._

"Wrong," Dean said, imitating a buzzer sound. "Mine sucked out loud, and Sam's was okay."

_Well, we can't _all _be awesome street artists_," Caleb said.

"Dude, shut up," Dean said, recalling all the numerous times where Caleb had managed to pull off a decent sketch on the driveway or sidewalk. It never failed to give all of them a laugh when they would tease one another about their differing levels of artistic talent concerning the chalk.

_Hey, don't knock the artist_," Caleb said with a laugh.

"Yeah, right. You drew what, a squiggly _line_?"

_No. For your _information, _I drew a squiggly line with pointy _thorns _on the end of it. _

"Oh, well, excuse the hell out of me," Dean said, comically rolling his eyes. "So anyway, what's up with you?"

Not there would be "much" up with him when he was confined to a small cell for the majority of the day, but he wanted to know what had happened with the hearing, and if his worst fears had been confirmed or not. Either the judge had seen it their way, and had allowed him to remain in South Dakota for the time being, or had ruled against them and in favor of the biased prosecution.

Either way, no matter what side the judge agreed with, there was no stopping the inevitable fact that he _had _escaped from the prison. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that that was what he had done, and the only question that remained was what kind of penalty would be imposed as a result?

Would it be something reasonable that they could all live with until they found a way for him to escape? Or would it be something that would be made even worse on all of them? Thinking of it terms of that, almost made Dean want to back out of hearing the answer to any of it as he nervously bit down on his thumb.

_Ah...well...I had my court appearance this morning. _

It was clear from the subtle shift in his tone that he wasn't keen on discussing it either, but it had been the unspoken elephant in the room that had needed to be addressed before either of them went crazy without bringing it up.

"Yeah," Dean said, attempting a casual feel to his voice as he twisted the phone cord around his index finger. "But what happened? Was it okay?"

He had been fortunate to not have been a party to seeing Caleb in court before, except for the one time that Dawn had him testify in Caleb's defense. In the end, even though it had stung to see him in that position with his own two eyes, it had been the one thing that had mostly influenced the jury to return a not guilty verdict when it came to the abuse and neglect charges.

_Yeah, it wasn't _great_, but it wasn't awful, either._

"So what happened?"

_It wasn't a formal hearing in front of the jury or anything like that, so I got to wear my nifty jail clothes, and all the other _glorious_ things that come with being transported. _

"You mean the-" Dean began, swallowing back the lump that had lodged itself in the back of his throat. Even though he tried not to imagine the sight of Caleb in shackles and cuffs, it was still difficult not to think about it when he knew what the guards did when he had a court appearance.

It made him sick when he knew that Caleb would never hurt anyone, and therefore didn't need the restraints that the guards seemed so eager to slap on him whenever he moved a muscle.

_Yeah. Those stayed on throughout the entire hearing because a jury wasn't in the room, so we didn't have to worry about making an impression on them. _

Dean nodded, trying to breathe through the sadness that he could feel encroaching on him as he tried to draw his mind _away _from the knowledge that he had to be treated like he was some horrible person, when that was the last thing that he was.

"What did the judge say about all this?" Dean asked, once he was sure that he was okay to talk again.

_He was actually _very _understanding about all of it. Um, he said that I _could _stay here in one of the corrections facilities. I'd just have to stay here in the county jail until they have a bed in one of the other places. _

So far so good.

It wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible either.

"A _bed_?" Dean said with a laugh. "They make it sound like they're waiting on a hotel room or something."

_Yeah, well, in my case, it's a six foot eight room._

"Yeah," Dean said quietly, not liking to think about that fact at all. "What else did he say?"

_The judge asked me to give him a solid reason why I should be allowed to stay here and not go back to Minnesota, and he also asked why he should forget about imposing a sentence for the escape. _

"What did you say?" Dean demanded incredulously, not aware of the fact that Caleb would have had to speak at the hearing that morning.

_I told him as much as I could without revealing everything. I said that someone had taken Sam, and that we were still scared because we were getting threats still. But the greatest moment came when the prosecutor, this real smartass, tried to talk over me when the judge gave me permission to speak, and he made him sit right back down. _

"Good," Dean said with a scoff. "About time they get scooted back to their place."

_I know, right? _

There was a brief but comfortable silence while Dean tried to figure out what next to speak with him about, but Caleb beat him to it and he was grateful.

_So how are you? Be honest. _

It was on the edge of his tongue to lie, to say something that would make it seem like everything was great and he was handling the recent raid and arrest like it was nothing, but he knew that Caleb would see right through that so he didn't worry about it.

"I've been crappy."

_I'm sorry. I didn't want it to come to this, Dean, I really didn't. _

"It's not your fault. How long did the judge give you for the escape? Or did he forget about it?"

_Not entirely. He could have given me the max which would have been five years added on to the two, but he gave me nine months. So it's technically two years and nine months._

"Wow," Dean said, "how _thoughtful_."

It was difficult to feel relief or exultation at the news that he had been given a lighter sentence when it wasn't anything that would get him home any sooner. And though he knew that there would come a point in time when they would break him out again, he had no idea when that time would come, and it was hard to wait for it and know that all of them were in a position that was as unfair as it was horrifying.

_I know. Dawn, though, she talked to the judge about imposing some new...conditions that would make it better for you and Sam to come and see me if you wanted. _

"What kind of _conditions_?"

_The kind where you wouldn't have to see me in cuffs or shackles. _

"Would—would that be _possible_?" Dean asked.

During the times that Caleb had been imprisoned for whatever ridiculous charges the prosecution had managed to pony up, he had been banned from seeing him at the jail because Jim (and then Bobby) had assumed that it would be too upsetting for him to see Caleb like that, and while he knew that to be absolutely true, it still didn't mean that he didn't _want _to see him, and would give his right arm to be allowed that precious chance.

_I _really _hope so, _Caleb said. _It gets old being chained up like that. I would love to be able to see you guys and know that you wouldn't have to put up with the confusion and upset of seeing me in that spot. _

"Well," Dean said, "I don't care about me. I care about the fact that they do that to you when you don't deserve that crap."

It _would _be horribly devastating to see Caleb in shackles and handcuffs, but he knew that the emotional pain of seeing him in such a horrible position, would pale in comparison to what Caleb would be going through having to walk like that, and have himself be restrained.

It was sick, something that only the most hardened of criminals deserved, not someone who was gentle and kind and hilariously funny with he and his brother.

_I know. She's going to go back to court sometime within the next few days, and see if she can get something written down where I can have visits with you guys and not have it be uncomfortable for all of us. _

"That would be great. What does Bobby think about that?"

_He thinks it may be a good idea. He's worried about Sam, but I think it might be fine if I'm not restrained in any way. You still probably won't be able to hug me or touch me, but at least we could visit and talk. _

Dean nodded, though Caleb had no way of seeing that. "I know."

_Are you doing okay, Dean?_

"I don't even know how to answer that, to be honest. Some days are better than others, you know what I mean?"

_I do. _

"It will be fine. It _has _to be, right?"

_Right. I'm not going to be transferred to the prison for a few days at least, so I'll be able to call there probably once or twice a day. _

"That would be cool," Dean said.

At least if he wasn't allowed yet to see him, he could have and enjoy their amazing conversations with each other. It was having talks like this that only reinforced the belief that, even though he was incapable of being there in person, their bond was still as strong and deep as ever.

_I know. Listen, do you mind terribly if I talk to your brother?_

"No, he's been bugging me for the phone for the past twenty minutes, anyway."

It was true; Sam had been bugging him by hanging on to his every word, and even leaning around the counter so that their heads were practically touching so that he would know that he wanted the phone.

_Okay_, Caleb said with a laugh. _I'll say goodbye to you after I'm talking to him. _

"Okay, sounds good."

* * *

The talk with Caleb had lifted Dean's spirits more than he thought was possible. Sure it still hurt to imagine him in that horrible place, and to know that he was talking to him while he was in jail awaiting transfer to the state prison, but at least he could be gifted with the sound of hearing his voice and hearing _both _of them laugh as they recalled past, wonderful times where jail and restraints and hearings _hadn't _been a regular part of their live.

After Sam had finished talking to him and Dean had gotten his chance to say goodbye to him, he retreated into the living room to clean up some of the mess from the day, and to do something to distract his frazzled nerves from reacting the wrong way.

Hearing that Dawn was going to try to go back to court and get new conditions imposed that would make the use of restraints unnecessary was something that Dean was hoping this new judge would be lenient about. He knew that, given the right set of circumstances, he would go to see him in the blink of an eye, but he knew that if he were to see him how the guards had him _now _when he was out of the cell, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it emotionally.

Once he was done doing his nightly chores, he immediately went to his room to chill. It had been a long day and he was tired, and wanting to attempt sleep after everything that had happened. Even though Caleb had been given a break by the judge, he still hadn't been let off the hook completely, and certainly nothing he could have said and done to the judge would have impressed upon him enough to grant him a reprieve from the jail system at all.

Rolling over on his side, he almost flew off the bed when he saw Sam standing almost an inch from his face, staring at him as though he belonged in there and did that all the time, which he almost never did except when he was trying to play a joke on him.

"You scared me," Dean said, giving him a look that made it clear there would be punishment if he tried it again.

"Sorry," Sam said, taking that as his invitation to plop down on his brother's bed. "It was good talking to Caleb, wasn't it?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, but it's still not the same as having him here."

"Yeah, I know. He was really funny, though."

"Yeah," Dean said, with a grin, recalling the joking they had been able to do with each other. "He was. It felt good to laugh about something again."

For the past few days, he had sank down into a near perpetual state of shock and devastation that, once again, the law had caught up to them and were punishing them for something that they didn't even deserve.

"He said that the judge was really nice to him."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, he was. He could have given him a harsher penalty, but he didn't."

That was the one good thing that had happened, and the fact that the judge had agreed that he could stay in South Dakota despite there not being a maximum-security prison that he could go to.

"What did he give him?"

"Nine months for the escaping, and he said that he could stay here instead of going back to Minnesota."

"Awesome!"

Dean nodded. "It would have been cool if the judge had agreed with him enough that he would have agreed to let him go, but that would have never happened anyway."

"I know."

The night was peaceful, quiet, and for once Dean was able to sleep somewhat peacefully as he stayed in one position instead of tossing and turning like he normally did on the worst of nights. It had felt wonderful to talk to Caleb again, and while he knew that it didn't fix the pressing ache of his absence from his life, it was still something, and that was what he would take.

When the first rays of morning light drifted in through the window in his room in the corner of the room, he groaned, not willing to admit that another day was there to replace the night that he had basked in that had allowed him the precious gift of sleep.

Dragging himself up to get dressed, he scrubbed an exhausted hand over his face as he walked out into the kitchen where Bobby and Sam were already up and eating the breakfast that Bobby had made for them. It was good, and it was enough to curb Dean's ravenous appetite in the morning.

"Thanks, Bobby," he remarked.

"No problem."

They were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Giving the boys a look that was clearly one of annoyance for whoever had interrupted them during breakfast, he went to answer it.

Dean could hear him talking quietly to the other person on the other end of the line, but he didn't know what it was about, or what the other person was saying. The only thing that he could tell was the subtle shift in Bobby's face as he finished up the conversation.

"Who was that?" Dean asked, as he looked over at Bobby as he came into the kitchen.

"Dawn."

"Oh? What did she have to say?"

"She has the court hearing on the eleventh to discuss Caleb and you boys seeing him."

"Oh, good. That's like, only a few days away."

"I know, but in the meantime, she talked to the DA."

"About you?" Dean said with a sigh, knowing they would have had to encounter that sooner or later, despite the wish that it would eventually go away.

"Yeah. They're not saying anything, but they want to talk to me."


	10. Chapter 10

Even though Dean knew that Bobby had done _nothing_ to warrant the DA taking a closer look at the documents that the police had submitted to them about him after they arrested Caleb, it didn't make things any easier on him emotionally as he prepared to watch Bobby walk out the door to face the music when it concerned the screwed up justice system that they had been caught under. The meeting was scheduled for that afternoon, and though they had apparently assured Dawn that it was nothing but routine questioning, he had his sincere doubts that that was _all _it would be when they had been hoodwinked before.

It didn't seem possible to him that he would be faced with losing Bobby, too. Even though he missed Caleb more than words could even express and wanted him back desperately, at least he and Sam still had one more stable influence in their lives to make sure they were well cared for and protected. Dean couldn't imagine what would happen if that crucial support was taken from them at a time like this, at a time when everything was so uncertain and scary, especially with Caleb's impending transfer to a new, more permanent correctional facility somewhere around Sioux Falls.

Trying to mask his true feelings the best he could, he watched as Bobby silently moved around the living room they were currently lounging in as he got all of his things together for the drive across town to the DA's office. He didn't need much, just the official custody papers that had been given to him when he had been awarded guardianship over he and Sam, and some other documents that were more for show than anything else.

Biting down on his lip until it actually stung, he watched as the older hunter finally finished gathering everything he needed for the drive. It had gone unsaid for hours ever since he had gotten the phone call from Dawn, but they were both nervous as to what this person would come up with, and how he or she would perceive the evidence that had been written down in the report.

Though Bobby and Caleb had _both _put on a convincing lie when he had been caught and arrested, it was what the DA would be able to put together that mattered. If he would see the evidence differently than the officers with his trained eyes that were far more used to detecting this kind of thing than a county officer.

"What do you think this dude's going to say?" Dean asked, as Bobby shrugged his coat on.

"I have no idea, Dean. I hope _nothing_. I hope he just says that he reviewed the paperwork and there's nothing to report, and we're in the clear," he said, as he swung his car keys around his finger. "I don't know if our luck is strong enough for something like that, but we'll see, won't we?"

Dean nodded. "I guess we will."

Not that they had a choice in the matter when the police went about their business in a twisted hamfisted way, but it was their way of making sure that control stayed on their side. It had been the same treatment they had come to expect from Minnesota, and now them. At least the judge there had given Caleb a break in the way that he had allowed him to stay within the city of Sioux Falls.

"It will be fine. Either way, we'll work something out."

Dean knew that Bobby and Caleb had come up with a contingency plan if both of them were ever out of the picture, and though Dean couldn't imagine something like that actually coming to fruition, he knew that it was a distinct possibility when the law was so clearly _not _on their side.

"You mean with me and Sam?"

"Right. Caleb and I talked it over a long time ago, but this man only wants to _talk _to me. I doubt that it will be anything more or less."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Dean remarked quietly, as he picked up his discarded action figures and started arranging them on the table in the order of their rank and size. It was something he used to do when he was younger, and was now resorting to it _again _to provide him with some form of distraction to back his mind away from the knowledge that the cops might be going after someone _else _in their family.

"I know," Bobby said, stopping in his tracks to walk back over to the fractured teen. "That this has been hard on you, Dean, but I honestly don't think this will turn out to be any big deal. Dawn seems to be pretty confident about it."

"Yeah," Dean said with a scoff, as he rolled his eyes. "She's an attorney, Bobby, she's _supposed _to be like that around people who are her clients. If she told them the truth, they'd run screaming in the other direction."

"Well, that hasn't happened yet. Even if it _does_, we have a plan to get out of it, anyway."

"For me and Sam," Dean corrected. "Not you."

"And me, too. I haven't gotten together all those contacts for nothing, you know."

"True," Dean finally relented, flashing him one of his rare smiles. "How long is it going to take?"

"Uh," Bobby said, as he checked the time on the clock above the mantle. "Not too long, I hope. It's right outside of town, so I shouldn't be gone long."

"Okay, we'll be fine."

He had been alone with Sam before. Whenever one of the adults left, there were always certain guidelines that he had to abide by, and he did. It wasn't funny to mess around when the supernatural could be waiting to take a chunk out of them, and that was why he took it so seriously when Bobby or Caleb gave him the responsibility of making sure that he and Sam both stayed safe.

"You know the drill, right, Dean?" Bobby asked knowingly, as he walked over to the front door to head out.

"Yeah. Make sure the windows are salted, make sure the doors are locked and the windows are latched, and make sure that I don't answer anything for anyone."

"Good job. If I call you, I'll call once and then hang up again."

"I got it. I know."

This was something that he was used to by now. It didn't need to be re-said, but he understood why Bobby was double-checking with him. Too much had happened in their lives for him to feel fully comfortable anymore, and even though he knew that a demon invading their home was unlikely, it still never hurt to know and be prepared for what would happen in that case.

"Okay. I'll pick up lunch on the way back."

"Cool."

* * *

The DA's office was located across town in one of Sioux Fall's industrial, business areas. It was a well maintained, large legal office with too many floors to count, and the kind of high polished floors that he could spot his reflection in. It was clear that the place had been recently remodeled by the scent of the fresh paint, and though this was nothing out of the ordinary, it was something that he picked up on as a hunter who had an eye for sensing details that others wouldn't.

Dawn was meeting him in the lobby before their appointment started. He was grateful that she would be there to monitor the types of questions he was asked, and intervene if absolutely necessary. Smoothing out his hair with his hand, he looked around the semi-crowded room for his attorney. She wasn't hard to spot when she made her way over to him from the other side of the room which apparently housed the seating area.

"Hi," she greeted, as they briefly embraced. "The meeting is going to be in a few minutes. He has one other case ahead of us, and then we'll be called."

She said all of this like it was no big deal, like the thought of him possibly facing escape charges didn't bother her in the least, and though he knew that she was trained to put her own feelings on the back-burner, it was still comforting to know that he had someone solid to lean on and have the crucial answers that he needed.

"What did he _want_? Did he say?"

He had known that he might face _some _questions from being caught with Caleb when the police raided his residence, but the thought had never seriously struck his mind until he had gotten the call from Dawn earlier that morning.

"I don't know the gist of it," she said apologetically. "All I know is that he has some basic questions, and that's all I know."

"Is this _normal_?"

He wanted to know as much as he could ahead of time so that he would be prepared going in. It would help him memorize certain responses that he knew he needed to have, and also be prepared to put on his infamous poker face and lie straight through his teeth.

"Yes. In a criminal investigation like this, they want to make sure that they cross all their I's and dot all their T's so there's no question of anything later on."

"Could it be an issue, though?"

"I honestly don't think so. Not when there's not proof beyond a reasonable doubt that you did anything wrong."

"I know, but in my experiences-"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentiment. The aide of the DA had come out to retrieve them. As she led them back to a high-rise office building at the very end of the hall, Bobby tried to control the insane urge that he had to run and never look back. These people had been a thorn in his side for years, and now that they were trying to mess with the family that he had tried so hard to keep together, was about the last straw for him.

"Remember," Dawn whispered, as the aide prepared to open the door. "Be _nice_."

She sounded like a mother scolding a child, but Bobby knew that he and Caleb both had certain attitudes toward the law enforcement that, while were both well-founded, didn't sit well with the people who were trying to conduct their investigations.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" he asked, giving her a look to show he was only teasing.

"Mr. Leonard, this is Bobby Singer and his attorney, Dawn Michaels," the aide said, as she approached a balding man in his late forties, early fifties from Bobby's best estimation.

"Thank you very much, Clarice. Would you two mind taking a seat?"

Yes, he minded _very_ much, but even though that retort was on the tip of his tongue, he wisely refrained from voicing it as he and Dawn each took a seat side by side on the plush chairs that were situated right in front of his desk.

"Mr. Singer-"

"Bobby," Bobby interjected. "Call me Bobby."

"Very well. Bobby, my name is Stanley Leonard. I'm the local DA assigned to cover this area, and in general, more of the serious crimes that has befallen our town. I got the report submitted by the police department in our area, and I wanted to know what your opinion is of it."

"What's stated in the report?" Dawn asked, leaning foreword as the DA handed her a copy of the report for her inspection.

"It states that officers found Caleb Rivers hiding in a home that you currently own. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Bobby said, after a second of careful thought on how _best _to answer him. "He had arrived earlier that day-"

"I know. That's stated in the report. The question _I _have is why you failed to report him the moment he showed up."

"Well, there were a lot of things happening at the time, I'm sure you can understand. The boys that we're raising, I didn't want them to see him in handcuffs or be walked out like that. I know that it wasn't probably the smartest call I could have made, but I did it with _their _best interests at heart."

"Okay. How long had he been there before the police showed up?"

"You honestly expect me to remember that?" Bobby demanded testily, ignoring the look that Dawn threw him, clearly beginning to sense that he was close to snapping with this man, and the questions that he was posing to him.

"I expect you to remember because it's important," the man replied smoothly.

"A few hours at the most."

It was a lie obviously, but the only answer that he could come up with that wold come _close _to passing for acceptable. He was usually someone who was good at reading people and their reactions, but this man was someone who was able to control his responses to things, and that made it harder for Bobby to gauge what he was thinking.

"Did you not think that by allowing an escaped convict to reside in the home that you were putting the children in danger?"

Bobby almost punched him in the face right there and then, but he didn't, even though he wanted to with all his heart. The idea that he was implying that Caleb was a _danger _to Sam and Dean, was as sickening as it was hilarious, but in that second, he was feeling anything _but _hilarity.

"You have no right to say that. You don't know that man, and you certainly don't know his love for those two boys."

"Regardless, you knew that he was hiding in your home until the police showed up."

"I did."

"And you never called the police."

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because, like I said, I didn't want the boys to face seeing him arrested. It wasn't the brightest option, but I wanted them to see him-"

"And in the process commit the offense of aiding and abetting a criminal?"

"I was not-"

This was _not _good. If he was already jumping the gun by classifying his so-called "offense" it meant that he had already given the matter considerable thought, and was ready to act on his suspicions. He would have thrown up if his throat hadn't been so tight.

"Did you know where he was _before _he showed up at your home?"

"No."

"Did you assist him in _any way_?"

"No."

It was clear the man knew that he wouldn't be getting anywhere with him, and he would be absolutely correct. Bobby had no intention of cluing him in to the reason why he had helped Caleb remain on the run, and he wouldn't give him a reason to suspect it, either.

"Alright. Just make sure that you're available for further questions."

"Fine."


	11. Chapter 11

The only sound that vaguely registered in Bobby's mind, was the echoing crash of his boots as they slammed against the immaculate tile flooring of the front reception area of the DA's downtown office. As he swung open the swinging door to free himself from the oppressive atmosphere that he had found himself in, with Dawn in hot pursuit, he couldn't believe that he had been blind enough to go into the meeting thinking that this man would actually _attempt _to understand him and the position that he was in when confronted with the harsh reality of Caleb's escape, and what they had done.

Even though he had to embellish the truth to fit the story that would be acceptable in the eyes of the court, he still couldn't believe that this man wouldn't at least _try _to be understanding about the situation he was in with the boys, and with a guy that he knew they both adored, and who he knew needed to be in their lives no matter what the cost.

This DA didn't know him from a hole in the wall, didn't know Caleb, and didn't know the love they all shared for one another. It still made him incensed that someone in a position of authority was considering slapping him with the maximum charge of aiding and abetting a criminal, and not just _any _criminal, but one that had been charged and convicted of kidnapping a minor, which had been a ludicrous charge in the first place, but one that they had been unable to keep off the plate.

Walking out into the scorching hot sun, he tried to forget about it, or at least put it in some kind of perspective, but it was impossible when he was harshly reminded of the penalty he would face if he was formally charged, and what would happen to the boys if he was arrested. Either they would be put in the system, which was the legal route they would face, or Dean would do something incredibly stupid and dangerous, and try to flee with his brother.

With those thoughts running through his brain, he almost didn't pay attention when Dawn finally caught up to him and placed a restraining hand on his arm, holding him back from walking out into the parking lot before she had a chance to explain all of it to him, and offer what little advice and reassurances she could.

"Bobby, wait," she said, slightly out breath from trying to keep up with his frenzied pace, her dirty blond hair slightly askew. "I _know _you're upset-"

"You haven't even scratched the surface," he said, as he tried to walk past her, but was intercepted again by her.

"I know that, but you need to listen. They haven't _actually _charged you with _anything _yet. It's a waiting game now, and it's one that they're going to be watching your reaction for. You can't give them a reason to doubt your innocence right now."

"How can they think they have the right to harass people like they've harassed us?" Bobby demanded incredulously, as he finally stopped to catch his breath (and his out-of-control emotions which had been getting the better of him).

"They think they're performing a service to the community by keeping dangerous people off the streets, but what they don't understand is that they jump the gun far too often, and it results, a lot of the the time, in unfair convictions that could have been avoided entirely right in the beginning stages."

Of course that would happen. It had happened to them numerous times in the court of law when it had betrayed Caleb over and over again by denying him the chance to speak the truth, by denying him the chance to a fair trial and a fair judge that had sentenced him to do hard time despite his reasons for doing what he had allegedly done. It wasn't anything Bobby _or _Caleb could have done to stop it, but in that instant, he wanted to break down in the face of all the unfairness he was facing in that moment.

All he wanted was to protect and love those boys, and think up a way for Caleb to come home to them again. Instead, he was being faced with defending his _own _life against the accusations of the prosecution who had no inkling of what they were even saying.

"You got that right," Bobby said shortly, even though he wasn't really mad at _her_, he was mad at the world and mad at the entire situation that he was suddenly being thrust into. "How much of a case does he have?"

"To be honest?" Dawn said, as they started walking toward their respective vehicles. "Not much of one. To prove aiding and abetting, which is notoriously hard to prove, he would have to have something _more _than suspicion to pass it off to a judge to sign over to trial."

"And all he has is-"

"Suspicion, and that's even reaching."

No one had physically seen Bobby and Caleb together in the months that he had been able to escape, and even though people knew that they knew each other, it didn't mean that he had helped him in escaping from the correctional facility that he had been locked up in.

"Right. But will he try it even?"

"He might," she warned carefully, seeing the way that the hunter automatically tensed when she spoke those words, but she didn't want to be dishonest and have him face a shock when and if it actually happened. "But he won't get far because of the laws in this state that make it clear what it means."

"Skipping ahead," he said, as he reached his truck. "What kind of time would I do if some judge or jury sentences me to do time?"

It was impossible to imagine it, especially with the knowledge that he had the boys to take care of, and how heartbroken they would be to lose him too, on top of everything else that had assaulted their life. It wouldn't be right _or _fair, but he knew those distinctions meant little when it came to the police and the court of law.

"It honestly varies from state to state, and it also depends on the severity of the circumstances and how much assisting the person actually did. In what you would be charged with, the prosecution would prove that you had known that he was planning to escape, and that you had helped him in that you had gotten someone to help him, and then you not only lied, but you provided him with food, clothing, shelter that kind of thing."

"So it'd be pretty steep, right?"

"Ten years is the max, but the judge always has certain guidelines that they can divert to if and when the situation calls for it."

"Okay. When should we know about any decision?"

"I have no idea. He'll probably want to look over everything and make sure he has a case. If he does, he'll call us back in for more questions, or he'll call to say that he doesn't, and it will be over with after that."

"Do you really think it will be that simple?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in skeptical doubt.

When, in their line of work, had _anything _ever been _easy_ for them? Not since before Jim had died, and even then, things had started getting shaky with Caleb's first murder trial, but ever since Jim had died and the YED had kidnapped Sam, it had gone downhill from there with Caleb's arrest and conviction, and now him being back in the same saddle because of his escape charge.

"It _could _be," she said, clearly trying to put as much of a positive spin on the case as she could. "And even if wore comes to worse and they charge you, we'll have plenty of grounds for appeal."

"Right, okay. Would it be possible, if they were to do this, to have whatever sentence I get, postponed until Caleb can get back out?"

He had heard of that happening before. If both sets of parents or guardians were sentenced to do time, one parent or guardian would take the first turn serving their respective sentence, and then the other parent or guardian would go in and do their sting.

That way someone would always be there for the kids in the situation, and they wouldn't have to face being put someplace strange and unfamiliar, and could be allowed to remain at home with their family, or what was left of it.

"That would be an argument I would make at sentencing, yes," she said, nodding her head. "And considering that neither of your offenses were considered "violent" it's possible that the judge would agree to it for the sake of the kids, if nothing else."

"Good, thank you. When are you supposed to be in court with Caleb?" he asked, as he opened the door of the cab and slid inside.

"Tomorrow morning."

"And during that hearing, you'll be requesting that the judge allow him to forgo the restraints in order to see the boys?"

Dawn nodded. "I think it would make a difference, don't you?"

"Absolutely."

Bobby had never felt comfortable allowing the boys to see Caleb in jail, especially with the realization that he would be in handcuffs and shackles during the entire visit to prevent escape. It was a sobering reality for a man that they both adored, and he couldn't imagine subjecting the boys to that sight, even _if _they were desperate to see him.

"I'll do what I can. It might not work because he already escaped, but I'll do my best."

"Thank you."

Knowing that she would do everything in her power to make this work out for them, was something that he would be grateful for. Even if she couldn't make it work that Caleb could see the boys without having to worry about being in cuffs, he hoped that she would be able to work out something when it concerned the prosecution, and the DA who was hoping to charge him.

Driving home gave him time to think without the added worry of informing the boys of everything that had happened during the meeting. It was upsetting to know that someone he had only laid eyes on _once_, was already accusing him of a crime that had the potential of putting him away for a _long _time.

It was as if this man didn't _care _that he was condemning an innocent family to more time spent apart, and only cared about making a name for himself in convicting someone in a small town, of aiding and abetting an escapee.

When he finally pulled into the winding driveway of their home after stopping and getting their promised lunch, he was relieved, and exhausted all at the same time. All he wanted to do now was go and lay down after talking to the kids, and eating the food.

Walking inside, he saw that the kids were already gathered around the kitchen counter, clearly starved past their breaking point as they glanced up at him eagerly.

"How did it go today?" Bobby asked, as he deposited the food on the counter and went to grab plates and forks to dole out the food to them.

"Fine," Dean said with a shrug, as he sipped the drink that Bobby had brought for him. "No emergencies or fires or anything like that."

"Good. I'm glad."

"How did it go with _you_?" Dean asked pointedly.

"Interesting," Bobby said, after a moment of silently wondering how he was supposed to accurately describe the interesting experience he had had with the DA's office.

"What does that mean?" Sam asked, joining in with the conversation as he dripped pieces of food down his shirt as a result of his open mouth.

"Keep your mouth closed, dude," Bobby said, giving him a gentle (but reproving) look.

"Yeah, gross," Dean said, making a fake gagging sound that made Sam laugh.

"It means," Bobby said, remembering Sam's earlier question. "That the man accused me of doing things that I did _not _do."

"That's kind of their job, right?" Sam said, basing his question on what he had been able to gather from knowing what little of the DA he had managed to find out from his family.

"To bully and harass people?" Dean said bluntly. "Yes."

"It feels like that, doesn't it?" Bobby said, shaking his head in irritation. "He said that I had aided and abetted Caleb by helping him run, and not telling anyone where he was."

"That's insane," Dean said. "Now they're just grasping at straws, trying to find _something _to get you on when there isn't anything to begin with."

"Right, well, they may have a case. Dawn doesn't think so. She said that it takes a lot more than just suspicion to charge someone with something like that since it's so hard to prove usually."

"So what's going to happen?" Dean asked, watching Bobby carefully out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know yet. He has to call back with his final decision one way or the other. In the meantime, Dawn's going to court tomorrow to see about getting Caleb out of those cuffs to be able to see you guys."

He didn't miss the almost instant way the boys' faces lit up when faced with the joyous truth that they might finally be able to see Caleb again. Talking on the phone helped heal both of their broken hearts over not being able to see him, but it wouldn't be anything like speaking with him in person.

"I hope she can," Sam said. "I miss him."

"I know you do," Bobby said, giving him a brief smile as he patted his back.

"I do too," Dean said, stating the obvious that everyone in the room knew. "Would you let us go if the judge agreed to our conditions?"

"I don't see why not. I just don't want you guys to see him like _that_, but if the judge would agree that the jail doesn't need to put up with those security measures, I don't see why you guys couldn't go."

"Awesome, thanks."

"No problem."


	12. Chapter 12

The morning of Caleb's crucial hearing that would determine whether or not he could be trusted to see the boys without the stifling presence of handcuffs and shackles, dawned bright and early as usual, as he was ferried out to the police car in the typical restraints that he had come to associate with being transported anywhere. Trying to ignore the feeling that always came with wearing them, he allowed the officers to guide him into the car so he wouldn't bang his head, and then tried to settle back down against the rough plastic of the seating as the car traveled down the heavily condensed road of people cramming to get to work on time.

Once upon a time, that had been _him_ who had been jockeying for a good position on the road to beat the dreaded early morning rush hour. It had been a long time ago, a different _lifetime_ practically, not since before Jim died and everything had gone straight to hell after that. At least, much to his knowledge, YED hadn't made another appearance in their lives in awhile, not since they had first returned to the sanctuary of the safe house.

If there was one thing to be grateful for, he knew that it would be that, but he also knew that the radio silence from the demon, could _also_ mean that it was bidding its time, waiting for the most opportune time to strike while the iron was still hot.

Shaking his head slowly, trying to get rid of those crippling thoughts before they completely controlled him, he looked out the window at the different town monuments and the landmarks that made it clear to him that they were approaching the courthouse where Dawn would meet him for the hearing.

Trying to prepare himself as much as he possibly could when the car rolled down into the underground parking garage, he scooted himself foreword as much as he possibly could to be prepared for when they opened the door and let him out.

As they walked him up to the second floor where the morning's hear would be held, he tried to control the uncontrollable pounding of his heart as they placed him in the customary holding cell until his case was called soon. It wasn't anything he wasn't used to at the jail, so he tried to relax and enjoy the brief moment of peace that came with being alone.

It gave him time to think about the rapid fire turn of events that his life had taken, and though it was nothing pretty or exciting, it gave him time to contemplate his position in the eyes of the court, and the impossible hope that the _same_ judge who had so willingly given him a break, would see things their way yet again, and grant him the ability to be with the boys without having to worry about them seeing him in a bad spot.

He missed them more than _anything_ and wanted to be allowed the gift of seeing them again, but he didn't want it to be in the wrong set of circumstances. He didn't want them to see him in shackles, and he didn't want that confusion and upset implanted in their lives when so much had already happened to them recently.

With those thoughts invading his mind, he almost didn't notice it when the guards came and unlocked his door to lead him out to the courtroom where the hearing would be held. It was the same one that had been used for his arraignment and placement hearings, and it would be held in front of the same judge as before.

Walking with difficulty down the short hallway, his shackles clinking together in the stillness of the room, he tried to ignore that unwelcome (and sickening) sound as best he could as the guards opened the doors to lead him in. Instead of meeting the steady, calm gaze of the judge, his eyes automatically searched for Dawn. She was seated at the defense table already, reviewing some notes that she had prepared the night before. It was a welcome relief to know that she would be there this morning, to have his back in the face of something pretty major.

When he was finally seated next to her, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least this way he wouldn't have the guards holding onto his arm like they were afraid he might escape again, and even though that idea was highly tempting, it wasn't something he would risk in the middle of a crowded courtroom.

"Hey," he whispered, catching her attention.

"Hi," Dawn said, looking over at him and giving him a warm smile. "You ready for all this?"

"I guess so. What are the chances of me actually _winning_ it?"

For as long as he had been forced to stay inside the jail, he had been forced to wear restraints when he had been transported anywhere _but_ his cell, and that included talks and visits with friends and family. It was a horrible downside to life as an inmate, but one that he hadn't ever challenged before now.

He wanted to see the boys, and he wanted it to be without the trauma of them seeing him in restraints like a common criminal.

"It's up in the air," she said honestly. "The biggest thing that we'll try to impress upon the judge-"

"All rise!" the bailiff said, interrupting whatever she had been about to say, as they rose along with the entire courtroom for the judge as he entered the room. It was a man that Caleb liked, the same one who had given him a drastically reduced sentence for the escape charge, and one who had allowed him to stay within Sioux Falls.

Caleb forced himself to look at the judge, and not think about the possibility of him denying him the chance to see the boys without the cuffs and shackles. To some extent, it wouldn't even be _up_ to the judge, but would be up to the jail and their policies, but he was hoping that the judge would be able to let the jail know that he wasn't required to wear them anymore.

"This hearing is to determine whether or not the defendant, Caleb Rivers, should be allowed to visit the two boys he has been raising, without the use of restraints that the detention center has deemed appropriate," the judge said, reviewing the documents related to that morning's hearing. "Would the State like to state their reasons for why they oppose this?"

Caleb wished that the hierarchy of defense and prosecution, put Dawn before the prosecution. It gave them plenty of time to make an impact on the judge before Dawn could even get her chance, and that was something that made him nervous.

As predicted, he listened to nearly ten minutes of them stating the reasons for why he shouldn't be allowed a break when it concerned the restraints they seemed so eager to use. One of the reasons, which was the huge one, was that he had already escaped custody once, and not being forced to wear them, would only give him more of a reason to attempt it again.

"At the end of the day, Mr. Rivers defied authority and he escaped from the correctional facility in Minnesota," prosecutor Jeff Michaels argued, as he slammed the judge with his reasons for why Caleb shouldn't be given a break. "You can argue that he's learned his lesson all you want, but it doesn't change the prior history."

"Don't react," Dawn warned, seeing how close he was to responding to what that man was trying to sell to the judge.

He knew she was right, but it didn't make it easier on him when _he_ was the one who would either be liberated or punished further depending on what the judge thought of both the prosecution and defense's side.

"Thank you, Mr. Michaels," the judge said, as he paused momentarily to take a sip from his cup. "Would the defense like to go next?"

"Yes," Dawn said, as she stood to address the judge. "I appreciate the position the State is in to prove that my client should not be allowed this certain right that we're here to discuss today, but I also want to remind you all that while in custody, he has not shown himself to be any kind of threat, has not proved to be anything but a model inmate, really, _except_ for when he escaped," she conceded, "but we already settled that matter the other day, and all we are asking for is that he be allowed to continue this amazing bond he has with the boys."

"Why should we trust the fact that he won't try it again?" the judge asked, posing the honest question that Caleb knew Dawn would have to answer without a seconds hesitation.

"Because he realizes what he did was wrong," she replied evenly, "and he knows that he can't do this again."

"The jails have certain rules when it comes to an inmate visiting with family or friends. The use of restraints has to be in place to protect both the inmate, and the people that he is visiting."

"There won't be any need for that. He would no sooner hurt any one of his family or friends than fly to the moon. He's not that kind of person, and though it looks like he _might_ be from the outside, don't judge a book by its cover. Those boys miss him terribly, and all they want, and all my client wants, is for a chance for them to have some of that same relationship back without having to worry about seeing him in a horrible spot."

"Regardless, considering his past history with the corrections department and the fact that he _did_ escape for a few months, I don't think I can, in good conscience, allow him to go without restraints of some kind when he's already proven that he _can_ and _will_ escape when given the right set of circumstances."

"Your Honor-" Dawn tried, seeing how crestfallen Caleb looked at the knowledge that the judge had shot him down on the one thing that he would have done anything to have gotten, especially if he wouldn't allow him to go back home and be with his family.

"However," the judge said, after a moment. "If it's possible to do this, I will instruct the jail to hide as many of the restraints as possible when he has visitors. If the waist chain can be worn underneath the clothes, that would be be fine, and same thing with the shackles."

"What about the handcuffs?"

"Those have to be on."

Caleb couldn't really see how they would be able to effectively hide the cuffs from the boys' sight when they would be sitting right across from him. It was disappointing, but he knew that he had dug that hole for himself when he had failed to make proper judgment when he had decided to escape.

"Okay, thank you."

It was a crushing blow, but one that hadn't been altogether surprising considering what he had already done. It had still been pointless to even go to the hearing, and as he prepared himself to be brought back to the jail to face more hell, he couldn't hide the single tear that slid down his face and into his mouth.

He wanted to see the kids more than words could even enunciate, but he didn't want them to be traumatized by the experience. If the judge was ruling that he still had to wear the cuffs and shackles, there would be no point in bringing them there, not unless there could be a better compromise figured out.

Dawn was waiting for him at the station. He was relieved that he didn't have to go right back into his cell, and could instead be led right to the small room where they conducted most of their meetings. Waiting until the guards had left the room, he shook his head in bitter disappointment at the outcome of the hearing that morning.

"I'm sorry," Dawn said, seeing the way that his jaw clenched when he was reminded of what the judge had ultimately ruled.

"It's alright. It's not on you. What else can we do?"

"About that?"

Caleb nodded. "Yeah."

"Honestly, nothing. I can file an appeal if you want, but it's probably not going to make much of a difference when the judge knows the history and knows that the jail relies on these..._measures_ to make sure that everyone stays safe."

"It still sucks. It doesn't apply to me, _none_ of that does."

He wasn't a "danger" to anyone in that jail. Not like the other inmates who might be. It was hard to swallow the fact that people thought these things, and there was little he could do about controlling it, or changing their warped perceptions of him.

"I know that," she said firmly.

"Did you—have you heard about which facility I'll be going to next?"

Now that he had officially been sentenced to do time in South Dakota instead of back in Minnesota, the issue of where he would be transferred from the county jail, was a problem that Dawn and the prosecution had been trying to work together on.

"Not yet. Sioux Falls isn't as big of a town as you would like to think when it concerns the jails and the prisons," she explained, "but we're trying to make some headway with some of the facilities _outside_ of town."

"How far?" he asked, not liking the idea of Bobby (or the boys if he decided to allow them to visit) having to travel a long way to see him.

"I don't know yet. I'm still hoping that we can work something out around here."

"Okay, good."

At least the option of remaining close to Sioux Falls was still open for him.

"The DA wanted to talk to Bobby."

"About what?"

"About the suspicion he has that Bobby helped you escape."

"What did you tell him? What did _he_ tell him?" Caleb asked, feeling his blood pressure rise as a direct result to the shock that he could feel circulating through his veins that Bobby was now being targeted by those people.

"We told him everything we needed to," she assured him. "He doesn't have any proof beyond suspicion, and that's not enough to officially charge with something as difficult to prove as aiding and abetting."

"Did he let it go?"

"Not entirely."

"What do you mean?"

"He's going to give me a call back when he makes his final determination."

"He can't go to jail, Dawn, not when the boys need someone to be there for them."

"I know," she said gently. "That's why _if_ this happens, I'll ask that any proceedings related to the case, be halted until your sentence is up and you can be there with them."

"Will that work?"

"It has for others in the same boat."

"Okay, good," he said, trying to let that shaky promise seep into his veins. It wasn't enough that he had to deal with being incarcerated, but now he was being forced to worry that the same outcome might happen to Bobby, and that was the last thing he needed to worry about on top of everything else that had gone wrong in his life.

"It will work out."

"You're supposed to say that," he shot back.

"Is it working?"

"Kind of."

* * *

As predicted, both the boys were upset at over the missed opportunity the judge had had in granting Caleb the chance to see them without the use of restraints. Particularly for Dean, who had been dealing with not only that, but the idea of Bobby being charged in connection with his escape. It didn't seem fair that all the bad hits that could happen to someone, seemed to travel right to their door.

It was clear to see that they were both down by the day's turn of events. Scratching his chin for something to distract both of them with, Bobby came up with a tentative idea for them, something that the boys had been wanting to do for awhile, but had never gotten the chance with everything happening.

"You boys want to go outside and do something fun?" he asked, walking into the open living room where they were watching some cartoon show that had been playing on a loop all afternoon.

"Like what?" Dean asked, finally moving from the position that he had been caught in all morning.

There hadn't been much to do but watch old cartoons that he had memorized long from when he was a kid. It had been devastating (not to mention disappointing) to have found out from Bobby that the judge in the case had denied Caleb the chance not to wear the shackles and cuffs when and if they came to see him.

It had been the only way that Caleb and Bobby would have agreed to the meeting between he and Caleb, and Sam. Now that that was shot down, Dean had been indulging in a little bit of self-pity for himself.

"Like shooting, and maybe we can camp out?" Bobby suggested, knowing how much fun both of them had when they got the chance to go outdoors and have some fun.

"Really?" Sam said, bouncing off the couch a lot faster than Dean had managed. "We haven't done that in _so_ long!"

"I know," Bobby said with a chuckle. "Now that we don't have to worry as much about keeping ourselves concealed, I thought that it would be something we could enjoy, maybe."

During the time that he and Caleb had been worried about someone seeing and reporting them, they hadn't felt safe even going _outside_ on most days. Now that the risk of someone seeing something suspicious was over, Bobby felt more comfortable getting the boys out of the house more, and allowing them to be actual _kids_ again.

"We could make smores," Sam said with a laugh, "remember when we used to do that, Dean?"

Dean nodded; it had been during happier times that they had camped out in a tent and had done some shooting exercises that he loved, and they had all cooked stuff around the fire and swapped classic horror stories. It was something that used to fill Dean with joy, something that had been done before all the ugliness had happened in his life, and before Jim had died.

"It was fun," he said, once he was sure he could speak, once the bitter sting of nostalgia had worn off and he was able to somewhat enjoy those moments again without breaking down like was his first instinct.

"And when we used to sit around the fire and tell stories about creepy vampires and ghosts," Sam said, recalling all the times that he had snuggled in with Caleb and Dean when he would get scared by the outside noises that had been produced by his own imagination after hearing something too sensitive for his young ears to handle.

"Jim used to _hate_ it when we told those stories," Dean said, smiling softly at the memory. "He said that it was something evil and we shouldn't fill our delicate, sweet souls with that violence," Dean said, touching his heart tragically.

"That sounds like Jim," Bobby said, shaking his head in amusement. "So what do you say. You in, Dean?"

Dean hesitated, taking a look around at Sam's eager face, and Bobby's encouraging one, before he nodded.

"Yeah. I'm in."

* * *

As he and Bobby and Sam walked out to the back area of the safe house which housed a wide, open field, which was also completely protected against demons, Dean had to admit that this was a lot nicer than moping around the house like he had been prone to doing, and instead of letting the anger and heartbreak that he could feel over Caleb's imprisonment, rule him, he had decided, for the moment, to take the high road and not let those judges and prosecutors see how much they had hurt him.

"Do you even _know_ how to pitch a tent?" Dean asked, stopping at the point Bobby indicated as he watched him roll out the flat fabric that would be a tent once it had been correctly assembled.

Even though Bobby was someone who was well—acclimated to the outdoors, he didn't strike him as the camping type of guy, and though he appreciated the effort he was making to get his mind off Caleb, he wasn't sure _this_ was the answer.

"No, to be honest," Bobby said, looking back at him. "But you do, right?"

"Uh...sure, I guess," Dean said, as he stepped foreword to make sense out of all the tangled up poles and equipment that he would need to raise the tent up. "Sam, come over here."

"What?" Sam asked, as he skipped over to his brother, so happy to be outdoors instead of in the stuffy house.

"Can you hand me all the rods that you hammer down in the ground?"

"Sure."

No stranger to doing this, Sam had handed him all the parts within only a few minutes as he helped him get the tent up. It didn't take too long when they were both working together, and though Bobby tried to pitch in and help, it was better if he stayed back and let the experts handle the tent making.

"You boys did good," Bobby commented, as they sat around the fire a few hours later.

"Thanks," Sam said. "When can we make smores?"

"Right now," Dean said, as he passed him a stick. "Did you bring all the food out?"

Bobby nodded. "Right here."

"Have you ever had one of these?" Dean asked, as he stabbed his marshmellow with the stick and stuck it into the fire.

"When I was a rugrat in Boy Scouts, yes," Bobby said, rolling his eyes.

"You were in Boy Scouts?" Dean said, laughing. "Wow."

"Quit the laughing. I only did it to get away from my drunk of a father."

Dean fell silent. It was rare that Bobby mentioned anything about his past, and that included his parents or his wife. From the veiled references that Bobby had made about his parents, his father had been a drunk who used to beat he and his mother, and Bobby had finally exacted revenge on his father.

"Right," Dean said quietly.

"Can I do that?" Sam asked, clearly not catching the seriousness of Bobby's lost childhood.

"I'm sure we can arrange something," Bobby said, shaking off the recollections that had assaulted his mind.

"Awesome!"

Dean smiled in spite of himself. This was good, something that he had been looking for since Caleb had been taken. The fun and the laughter that he used to revel in when his entire family was together, not broken or apart from each other.

"Dean, what do you think about doing something like that?" Bobby asked.

"Uh, no thank you," Dean said, smiling. "That's never been my thing."

"That's too bad. Do you guys want to hear some campfire stories?" Bobby asked.

Dean nodded, noticing the way that Sam scooted closer to him in direct response to the unease that he could feel at being scared out of his wits by the gory stories that Bobby (and sometimes Caleb when he was there) tended to tell.

"You bet."

"There's a story that Rufus told me," Bobby said, as he leaned foreword on the log that he had dragged over to the campsite.

"About what?" Dean and Sam asked in unison, before looking at each other and grinning.

"A special gun."


	13. Chapter 13

A special gun.

A legend surrounding it.

It wasn't often that Dean got to hear anything concerning anything _other_ than the lore that revolved around the supernatural that he had to learn as part of his training as a hunter. It was the _one_ aspect of the life that he dreaded, having to burden his mind with the knowledge that he knew would save him in the end, but also not wanting to have to hear it in favor of going outside and shooting something.

But this was different. A gun that was worthy enough to be told around the campfire was _definitely_ something that had captured Dean's interest as he adjusted his position so he was comfortable, as he swatted Sam's hand away as it came to rest on his shoulder, clearly anticipating something horrifying like had been known to happen in times gone by.

This time however, Dean knew that he was about to get a serious dose of ancient history, and while he didn't know what to expect when it came to that, something told him it would be important and to listen up when Bobby gathered his thoughts enough to begin telling the story.

"What's the story about?" Dean asked, his face glowing in the light of the fire as the flames crackled and danced merrily in front of him. Before, when he had been younger, he had used to love watching the flames, especially when they ate up his marshmellow. Now, he was more intrigued in the story that Bobby was preparing to tell them.

"Rufus told me a long time ago," Bobby said, shaking his head in the only way that hearing something from his oldest and dearest hunting friend could produce. "For all I know, it's a bunch of crap, but he seemed pretty intent on it."

"About what?" Sam asked curiously, as he hid a yawn behind his hand. There had been too much excitement that day, both with hearing the disappointing news about Caleb's failed attempt to be able to see them, and now hearing a fun story around the campfire.

"It's a gun that's been around for hundreds of years," Bobby said, beginning to dive right into the heart of the story. "It was made _in_ or _around_ the 1800s by a hunter, like us, that made the gun special with a specific kind of bullet."

"What kind of bullet?" Dean asked, curious despite himself as he scooted closer to Bobby to hear the story more clearly.

"A bullet, that Rufus said anyway, could kill _anything_ supernatural."

The implications of those words, was staggering to Dean. It didn't seem real that there might exist out there, a gun that held the power of demolishing any supernatural creature that it encountered. If such a thing was out there, they would be able to use it to kill any number of things that they were currently up against.

The _demon_ for one.

The demon that had been responsible for the deaths of so many people in their lives, but most especially, their parents and Jim, and the torture and kidnapping of his brother. In direct response to Bobby's impossible words, he could feel his heart rate soar as he swallowed back the roll of excitement that he could feel fight its way up through his stomach.

"Is he—are you _serious_?" Dean whispered brokenly, not even believing it.

"Supposedly," Bobby warned. "I've never seen it for myself, and I like to believe in things like that if my two peepers can see it for themselves."

"What else did he say?" Sam asked, clearly catching on to how serious it was, as well.

"The hunter, Samuel Colt, used the damn thing a half dozen times, but I guess only a few bullets remain inside the gun. If we find the gun and are able to replicate the bullets, we can have a real killing machine on our hands."

Dean nodded. "Yeah," he said with a scoff. "Not to mention something that can kill the demon."

"That's right," Bobby said, smiling softly in the glow of the firelight as he reached over and placed a reassuring hand on Dean's knee. "But that gun hasn't been seen, according to Rufus, in years. He's been trying to get his hands on it recently, but he hasn't had any luck."

"Where could it be?" Sam asked.

"Who knows? Some hunter out there probably has it. It's a toss-up as to which one."

"They probably don't want it advertized that they have something that powerful in their possession," Dean remarked quietly, running his fingers through his eyes, trying to fight off the complete exhaustion that he could feel go through his body like a torpedo.

"That's exactly what it is," Bobby said, as he reached foreword to put something in the fire. "The question that _I_ have, is can it be true? Can what Rufus told me be true?"

"Have you heard it anywhere else?" Dean asked.

"Not really, no. He seemed to be the one that really knew the most about it. He said that some vampire hunter in Colorado supposedly has it."

"So what do we do?" Dean said with a grin. "Just knock on his door and say, 'excuse me, but our need for the gun is greater than yours.'

"Maybe not be that blunt about it," Bobby said with a shrug. "For all I know it's a stupid legend, but if there's any chance that there's some truth associated with the crazy of it, then I think we should follow up on it."

"I do, too."

If they could make headway on killing the demon that had been responsible for so much upset and hurt in their lives, he would absolutely travel all that ways to Colorado to find it and retrieve it.

"Not right now," Bobby said. "For one, I don't know if it's such a great idea for you two to go when I don't know what I'll be heading into. And two, I still need to fill Caleb in on it, and see what he thinks."

"Well," Dean said, as he stood up and wiped his pants off of the outdoor leaves and dirt that had accumulated on them. "I think he'd want to go for it, but he's locked up thanks to those idiots."

"True, but we may wait until we have him back out again," Bobby pointed out, "then we can _all_ go together if it works out that way."

Dean nodded, not able to deny the brilliance in that plan. If only they could settle on a plan that would succeed in breaking him out and having it be somewhat permanent this time around. There was simply no way that either of them felt comfortable allowing him to sit and suffer in prison for nearly three years, and all for something that he had never even done.

It wasn't possible, and it wasn't anything that Dean (or Bobby) was willing to entertain seriously.

"I think that would be awesome," Sam said, "but when are we going to get him back out?"

That had been the one question that he had asked nearly as much as when they would be allowed to make the travel to the jail to see him. He would be transferred in the next few days to the state prison, and he knew that it would be more difficult to see him if that happened.

"We're working on it," Bobby assured him, as he worked to put the fire out so they wouldn't run into problems later on while they were sleeping in the tents. "We can't be as obvious about it this time around. We have to work to get more guys on the inside, and to try to get at their entire security system so they won't be as quick to react."

Dean nodded, trying to shove as much of the pain that hearing about Caleb, brought up. It was hard to know that while they were having fun and laughing outside by the fire, Caleb was sitting in a jail cell trying to fall asleep. It wasn't fair, and though he knew that he couldn't put his life on hold every single time something happened to one of them, it was sorely tempting.

"How long should that take?" Dean asked, as he carefully walked around the different logs to unzip the flap that concealed the entrance to one of the tents that they had put up.

"I don't know yet. We'll have to be more careful. We can't use Jefferson this time. It will have to be someone new, someone that we trust, and someone that will have knowledge of the inner workings of the system, and know how to crack it."

"You mean the cameras?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

Jefferson had been the first accomplice to break Caleb out of the prison. Since the CO's would already be aware of him from the facility in Minnesota, Dean knew that he was out as a potential help, but that didn't mean that some of their other friends couldn't, and he knew that was what they would be counting on this time around.

"Can we destroy them without them knowing beforehand?" he asked, as he finally admitted defeat with his exhaustion and laid down on top of his sleeping bag.

"It's risky, but if someone plays the part well, it's possible."

"And then we can go after the gun," Sam said, "right?"

"Right," Bobby confirmed.

It wasn't easy for Dean to fall asleep on something that wasn't his own bed. It had been something he had struggled with since he was a small child, and had often attributed it to the fire that had scared him right out of his bed when he had been a toddler, and had seen his mother burning alive on the ceiling of his brother's nursery.

Tossing and turning quickly became his friend as he struggled to find the right position to rest his tired body in. It wasn't just the usual thoughts that ran through his brain now that it was still, it was now thinking about the mysterious gun that Bobby had mentioned during his campfire tale, and how it supposedly had the power of gunning down anything supernatural that it came across.

Over the years, he had learned some pretty outlandish things that had originated from legend and lore, but this was the one thing that had captivated his interest and held it there throughout the entire, incredible tale.

For years, especially during the six months since Jim's death, he had wanted revenge on the demon that had been responsible for it. He wanted that demon to get a glimpse of what it felt like to be in the kind of pain that Jim must have been in during his final moments, and he wanted to be the one to do it, too.

Not just for Jim, either.

But for his parents.

The two people who the demon had been the first to touch, and the one action that had resulted in the path that he and Sam were on now, and even though he wouldn't change the family that he had created with Caleb and Jim and Bobby, he still felt longing for his Mom and Dad, and an anger that they weren't there to celebrate milestones or birthdays, or even the hard times when he needed someone like his mother or father.

The demon had taken that away from him.

Away from Sam.

And now that they had a possible way of finding him and killing him for _real_, it was all he could do to contain himself from running out into the night to find the gun then and there, and finish the demon before he could wipe out any more of his friends or family.

He didn't know what time it was when he finally managed to drift off to an uneasy, restless sleep. The night owls hooting as they dove for prey, was the last thing he heard as his mind grew heavy with the impending sleep, and though he was glad that he was finally obtaining some much needed rest, he didn't want to stop thinking about the answer to all their problems.

It was too much to even imagine. Killing the demon had been the one thing that he had aimed for for nearly his entire life, and now he might finally get the chance once and for all.

* * *

It was early morning when his body finally jolted him back to awareness. Blinking a few times in confusion before he finally realized where he was, he looked over at Bobby and Sam who were just beginning to show their own signs of being thrust back into the waking world. It had been a fun night, and though the insomnia that he had battled as a result, was still clinging on, it had all been worth it.

"Morning," Dean said, looking over at his brother who was rubbing his eyes with his knuckles the way he used to when he was a baby.

"Hi," Sam said, as a sudden yawn overcame him.

"Sleep well?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Sure," Sam offered.

"Good."

"You two rugrats ready to head inside and grab some breakfast?" Bobby asked, as he started to crawl out of the tent.

"You bet."

It would beat camping out on smores, and then after they finishing eating, they could retire to their respective beds for some of the morning without having to worry about the biting mosquitoes attacking their skin.

The breakfast was a quiet, sleepy affair. The eggs and toast that Bobby made for them, were quickly washed down by the orange juice and water that he had set out for them. He was relieved that the idea he had, had worked.

It wasn't often that Dean let loose and enjoyed himself for once, especially when he was cut off from seeing Caleb. Bobby knew that it was hard for him to think about anything else but that pressing depression of that, but he was glad that he had found a way to distract him from that for awhile.

Caleb knew it would come eventually, especially since he knew he couldn't stay in the county jail forever, not when he had a two year prison term to resume in the state prison. By a stroke of a miracle, he wasn't facing extradition back to Minnesota, but was allowed to stay in the area of Sioux Falls to be closer to the boys.

It still wasn't something he relished, having to be transported to another, stricter facility where the lines of communication between he and his family, would be monitored much more closely than it had been at the county jail.

It wasn't anything he could help, and with a sigh of resignation, he allowed himself to go through all the things he had to go through to be brought out of his cell and taken a little ways out of town to the new correctional facility that he would call home for the next two years (or until whenever he and Bobby hatched an escape plan).

He knew that Bobby was thinking about bringing some more of his guys in to accomplish the impossible feat, but he wasn't sure when or how it would work out, especially with the knowledge that the CO's would be on the lookout for anything suspicious from him. It would have to be done intricately, and without anyone being none the wiser to the plan. In an effort to keep his poker face on the straight and narrow, he refrained from speaking to anyone unless absolutely necessary, and for the most part, that was respected by the other inmates and the guards.

The one person he could be absolutely honest with, was Dawn. She came to see him a few days after his transfer had been completed. Sitting across from her, waiting for her to make the first move, was comforting to him. Her presence, while only serving to remind him of the position that he was in, was also much needed and something that made him feel better when he knew that he had someone on his side that knew pretty much everything about him.

"Hey," he said, cupping his hand under his chin.

"Hi," she said, smiling softly. "How are you?"

It was a question that she had to know the answer to, but was only asking out of general politeness. It was written all over his face how he was, from the dark lines that had settled themselves under his eyes, to the near constant yawning that he did from the zero hours of sleep he had managed to obtain.

"I've been better," he said honestly. "What about you?"

"I'm doing okay. I'm getting closer to figuring out who the informant was."

"You are?"

That was something that sparked his interest. He hadn't known who had ratted him out to the police, but he wanted her to look into it to make sure that it wasn't something demonically related that they needed to be worried about.

"Yeah. Not a hundred percent sure yet, but I'm close."

"Thank you."

"No problem," she said sincerely. "We'll figure this out some way or another."

"Good."

At least he could be assured of one thing in that Dawn was getting closer to figuring out who had been the informant that the police had based their raid off of.

"I talked to Bobby," she said quietly. "He said that he's trying to figure out a way to get you out again."

It had never been a question in his mind that he would escape again when given the right set of options. Obviously resorting to the same means was out after the guards had known how he had done it, but he was hoping to figure out something a little more involved and intricate so there wouldn't be nearly amount of the suspicion and searching that there had been before.

"I know. We talked about some of it, but we didn't want to get too involved in case someone overheard us."

"That's understandable."

The idea of someone overhearing him planning his second escape, was one thing that would be an almost surefire way to get him sent back to the maximum-security unit in Minnesota.

"Is there anything else?"

"I filed the appeal to be certain, but I don't think we're going to get anywhere."

"Okay," he said with a sigh. "Sooner or later, it will work out either way."

"True."

At least he could be sure of that _one_ thing. Even if he had to wait awhile to get out, at least it would happen sooner or later.


	14. Chapter 14

The idea of something being strong enough to kill _any_ supernatural creature it encountered, was enough to occupy Dean's mind through the next week as he thought about the gun and _who_ had it now, and if it was anything real at all, or just something made up to appease the revenge-crazed hunters that were out there, people like them that had suffered through enough bad breaks to last them a lifetime and just wanted them to stop for once.

Bobby seemed to be indifferent to the idea of the Colt. It was something that would be nice, they all figured, but one they weren't willing to get their hopes up on until it was proven to exist for _real_. There was too much at stake to invest themselves emotionally in something so wonderful, and then be bitterly disappointed when it turned out that it had all been a hoax.

Rufus had been the initial source of information. He was a hunter who had been in the life longer than Bobby, and had been the one to introduce him to it. Even though Bobby trusted his oldest and dearest hunting friend, he still harbored doubts about the information that had been given to him second-hand. Luckily for them, Rufus was dropping by their place that afternoon, and they would get their chance to ask him about the validity of the gun.

The visit also Bobby a chance to hand over some of his cases to Rufus that he couldn't go on for obvious reasons. Seeing the neatly packed manila folders that sat bunched together on the kitchen counter, made Dean miss the 'old days' where he and his family could do jobs together without having to rely on other people to do it for them. Ever since the cops had decided to make targets out of his family, randomly going on jobs, had been proven to be out of the question for their own safety.

Still, Dean missed the excitement of going on cases, and though he now had something _new_ to set his sights on thanks to the legend that he had been told, it still didn't completely ease the pressing ache of longing and adrenaline that he could feel course through his veins as he imagined completing something again, imagined diving _right_ back into the heart of the game again.

But until the DA had ruled on whether or not they thought they had enough fantasy evidence to officially charge Bobby or not, they were on lock—down mode from all activity that would be misconstrued by the police as being 'illegal' or 'suspicious,' two words that they commonly used in their investigations, and more recently, when they ad been investigating _them_.

Sighing softly as he slid into a stool at the island counter, he flipped through the evidence of what looked like a simple haunting. Nothing new or exciting about that, but Dean could practically envision all the steps that he would have to take if he was going on the job. Training for one, whenever he was being entrusted to go on a job, he would normally work out harder than normal in preparation for anything that might come his way, and then his mind would analyze all the evidence at his disposal, and render a tentative verdict of what they were dealing with then.

It was a routine that he had followed for years ever since he had first gone out on the job with Caleb. Since then he had been allowed to accompany him to the morgue, to interview family's when the situation was right, and then be allowed to help kill it when the time came for the unforgivable job of digging up the grave and burning the stiff.

He missed that life.

It had been awhile since things had been so normal that the guys had felt comfortable enough to take he and Sam out on cases. It wasn't anything they could help, not when the police were shining a bright spotlight on their family, but it still sucked when they had to be so careful not to attract the wrong kind of attention.

Snapping his brain away from those thoughts before they ruled him completely into a new kind of self-pity party for himself that he had been prone to having lately, he watched as Bobby and Sam walked back into the kitchen where they had been gathering more research for Rufus to take with him.

Dean had only met Rufus once or twice in his life, but he liked the older hunter, and especially liked it when he gave Bobby a hard time, something that Dean loved doing on a regular basis, and though Bobby absolutely hated it when his old friend did it, he grudgingly tolerated it when the boys joined in with the fun.

"Hey," Dean said, when Bobby slammed the research on the center island in front of him. "Were you gathering research or a novel?" he asked, as he leaned foreword to inspect the giant mound of papers and documents that were all related to the current investigations that he was counting on Rufus to help with.

"A little bit of both," Bobby said, wiping his brow. "Some of these aren't related to the same case."

"So when is Rufus going to even be here?" Dean asked.

"Should be pretty soon," Bobby said, checking his watch.

"Awesome."

Bobby gave him a look, rolling his eyes as he went to answer the door, which had just been knocked on. He knew that Dean liked a good laugh, but he wasn't sure he liked it when it came at _his_ expense. Shaking his head, he answered it to admit his good friend who, while he had had a falling out with some years previously, still respected and admired, and knew that the feeling was mutual on his end.

"Hi," Bobby said, as he admitted him before closing the door. "Took you long enough," he groused.

"Oh, shut your pie hole," Rufus said. "You give the boys this kind of good time?"

"All the damn time," Bobby said, his patience already wearing thin with the hunter as he walked him right back to the kitchen. "Of course, they don't have the mouth that you do."

"Hey, who's the one who's swearing like a sailor?" Rufus shot back, clearly getting into his element when it concerned teasing Bobby, something that both of them were very good at it when the situation called for it.

"Shut up," Bobby said, as he handed him some of the research that he had managed to gather. "Think you can take these on?"

"I don't know," Rufus said, bending his head low over the gathered research. "Why can't you, old man?"

"Because of the cops," Dean put in. "They're on to us in a _big_ way."

"What kind of 'big way?'"

Dean was silent for a minute. Even though he _knew_ that he would see Caleb again, it still stung to know that he was being punished for something that he hadn't even really _done_. If the cops (and the judge) hadn't initially charged him with the kidnapping crime, he would have never been convicted and then sentenced to do unfair time where he had eventually escaped.

It was unfair, a concept that Dean had grown used to, but still couldn't entirely move past when something bad happened to one of his family members. Trying to shake off the tears that he could feel burning the edges of his eyes, he swiped a strong hand across his eyes before resuming his paused conversation with Rufus.

"Caleb. He was in prison and then we broke him out. For awhile, things were okay, and then they found us here," Dean explained quietly.

"Oh," Rufus said softly, clearly sensing how delicate the subject was. "I see now."

"That's a miracle," Bobby said.

"Hey, Rufus," Dean said, after a second of silent thought. "Bobby was telling us last night about a Colt gun? He said that its the one that can kill any supernatural monster it runs into?"

To his surprise, Rufus laughed. It wasn't anything that Dean wasn't used to when he interacted with the hunter. The two, for the few times that they had been around each other, shared a good, cordial relationship with one another.

"That gun's been around for hundreds of years," Rufus said. "I've been trying to find it myself for a few years now."

"How do you know it's even _real_?" Bobby challenged, raising an eyebrow. "For all you know, you're just chasing a fairytale."

"Obviously I've done some digging, Bobby. Samuel Colt made that gun, and when he got killed, the gun fell into some of the wrong hands before disappearing entirely."

"So who has it now?" Sam asked, speaking up for the first time since their guest had arrived.

"Beats me. The last I knew, it was in Colorado with a vampire hunter or something like that, but I have no idea where the son of a bitch even is."

"So then he might have used all the bullets," Bobby pointed out, exchanging uneasy looks with the boys.

"Possibly," Rufus conceded, "but you want to be sure of that before you dismiss it entirely."

"True," Dean said, "and if this thing can help kill the thing that killed our Mom, it's worth a go."

* * *

Hearing Rufus back up what Bobby had told them over the campfire had been something that had not only intrigued Dean and Sam, but had excited them to no end to imagine something being that wonderful, something that while was still missing, would be strong enough to take out something like the thing that killed their Mom. After Rufus left with the cases that he had been given, Dean and Sam crashed in the living room for awhile, watching movies and doing anything they could to distract their minds from the knowledge of the gun. Though Bobby had been skeptical about it upon first hearing the story, it was clear that he was starting to put more stock into it than he had before.

"What are you boys doing?" Bobby asked, as he came into the room and looked at what they were watching.

"Watching _Batman_," Dean said, as he angled his body around Bobby's so that he could keep the original view that he had been enjoying.

"Well, Caleb's on the phone for you guys."

"Sweet," Dean said, as he jumped off the couch, his show completely forgotten as he went into the kitchen to enjoy his conversation with his guardian. It was sad that now all they had to look foreword to, were the telephone conversations, but at the same time, those talks had sustained _both_ of them through some of the worst situations before, and the same was proving to be true now. "Hey," he said, as he wrapped the phone cord around his finger.

_Hey, dude. How are you doing?_

"Alright. Did Bobby tell you what we did?" he asked, looking over at the hunter as he got out some food to make some dinner.

_No, what?_

"He dragged us outside to go camping," Dean said, laughing at the memory that it presented.

It had been something that he had resisted, something that had been done only during the good times, the times where things weren't so crappy and hard as they were now. As it turned out, he had ended up enjoying himself somewhat, and he had heard all about the legend of the gun, and how amazing it was.

_That sounds like fun,_" Caleb said, and for a second, Dean could almost picture the smile on his face, even though he hadn't been there to enjoy it for himself. _What did you guys do out there? _

"Well, until it was dark out, I shot some rounds, and then Bobby told us a little story."

_About what?_

"Little" was an understatement, but it was the only word that would properly fit the tone of the conversation, and what Dean was wanting to discuss with him.

"This gun. The Colt gun. Did you ever hear of it?"

_I have, actually. From other hunters. Mainly down at Bill and Ellen's Roadhouse, but I never knew if it was true or not. Is it?_ He asked, after a seconds worth of thinking.

"I don't know. Rufus seems to think so."

_Does he really? _

"He's the one that gave it to Bobby, and then Bobby told us."

_Passing it down. _

"Exactly. So Bobby's thinking that after we get you back out again, we can all go and try to scope it out."

Thinking of Caleb's release was the only thing that kept him sane throughout the long days where his absence was just too much for him to handle. It didn't feel right when some of his family was missing from the circle that they had built around themselves.

_That sounds like a plan. _

"So how is it there?" Dean asked quietly, not liking to think abut the fact that he was in prison now, but also knowing that he didn't have much else to talk to him about.

_It's different than the jail, but it's not maximum—security like the other one was, so it's a little bit better._

"Good. When do you think it would be okay to try to do something about getting you out?"

_Uh...I can't really talk about that here, buddy._

"Oh, right," Dean said with a chuckle. "I forgot."

It was hard to remember that their calls were most likely being monitored by other inmates, and not to mention, the guards who would love for an excuse to impose some other kind of ridiculous punishment on him.

_It's okay._

Talking to the boys always helped Caleb on the _worst_ of days. The days where his confinement seemed to never end, and when the anxiousness of getting out was almost too much to bear for him. Even though he knew that there would come a point in time when they would get him back out again, it couldn't come quickly enough for him, who missed the kids more and more as each night and day passed them by.

The regular visits from Dawn did wonders in helping ease the boredom and the depression that had settled over his confinement. Even though the facility was minimum—security, it didn't mean that he was free to leave his cell whenever he felt like it. The reality was that he was locked up for twenty-two hours out of the day, and only had rec outside for one of those hours.

It was a reality that he had grown used to during his other stints in the jail, but this was something that had the power of becoming permanent if they didn't think up a good enough escape plan to get him out.

On the first or second week of his transfer to the state prison, Dawn came to see him again. While her presence was nothing new, he knew that she had been trying to dig deeper into who had made the fateful tip to the police, and while he knew that it wouldn't do much in the grand scheme of things, he needed to know if it was a threat they needed to watch out for or not.

"Hey," he said, once the guards had left the room to grant them the privacy he was allowed to have.

"I found out who it was."


	15. Chapter 15

Hearing the knowledge from Dawn that she had managed to scrounge up the information needed to make an accurate determination as to who the informant was that had ratted him out to the police, was something that Caleb had been waiting for for a number of reasons: one, the idea that someone may be wandering around town watching them, and who was possessed by a demon and waiting for its next move, was the more pressing issue.

And two, for obvious safety reasons he wanted to know who had been responsible for the betrayal. The odds of someone they knew being responsible for the leak was unlikely, not unless they were possessed by a demon and had given out the information that way. Hunters in general, lived by a strong moral code to protect each other from forces they deemed a threat, like the police, and the odds of someone breaking that, wasn't a possibility.

Still, it made him nervous to know for _sure_ who it had been. Caleb didn't think he could stand the knowledge of someone they possibly knew, being the reason why he was in the situation he was in now. Clasping his hands in front of him, he stared across the table at her as she got ready to divulge the information that would either prove to be a dead end lead, or open up something that was far beyond any of his other expectations.

If it was another hunter, that would just go to prove his point that not _all_ hunters could be trusted. That was the reason why he and the guys had kept the kids far-removed from the normal hunting circles that were regulars at the Roadhouse, and at other establishments.

"Who was it?" he asked, surprised at how tight his voice sounded from the anticipation of _finally_ having their answer one way or another. In a big way he was hoping that it wouldn't be anything, that it would be some normal person who had happened to see him and reported it.

"I don't know if the name means anything to you or not," she warned, as she dug in her briefcase for the documents that she had managed to get from the police station. "But I was finally able to get them to crack, and they released it."

"How did you do it?" he asked, as he shakily accepted the paper she slid across to him, mentally preparing himself for whatever he was about to see.

"I told them that it was a matter of defense, and we were legally entitled to the documents in case we ever had to call him or her to testify."

Nodding, knowing that made sense better than anything, he took a deep breath before looking down at the name: Amber Barnes. The name, at first glance, didn't mean anything to him. According to what limited information he had in front of him, she was a person who lived in the Sioux Falls area, and had seen them by chance when they first got to the house.

That wasn't what was bothering him as he leaned foreword to examine the picture that went along with the name. There wasn't anything extraordinary about her appearance. She was pretty with dark, brunette hair that went down past her shoulders, but there was one thing that his trained eyes zeroed in on faster than anything.

A special kind of charm bracelet, one that he caught a glimpse of from the awkward way she held her arm. The bracelet wasn't fully revealed in the photograph, but there was enough of it that he could identify it for what it was, and who _she_ was, more importantly.

"What is it?" Dawn asked, after a moment, seeing the way that her client and friend had studied the picture so intently.

"The charm bracelet," he said, sliding the photograph back to her. "You see that?"

"Yes...why is that important?" she asked, clearly confused from the way that her eyebrows drew together in bewilderment.

"The different charms on the bracelet," he explained patiently. "They all mean different things for different reasons, but long story short, it's usually worn only by hunters."

Slow realization crossed over her features as she looked at Caleb. Even though Dawn was new to the life that her client had been engrossed in for nearly a decade, she had been a fast student and had picked up as much as she was able to in her free time, and from talking with Bobby and Caleb.

Hunters and the different ways of life they lived in, was still something that she was struggling to put together in her head. Some hunters, like Caleb and Bobby, lived as normal as they could, with homes and regular jobs, while others lived a more _nomadic_ lifestyle and preferred to travel from state to state, and never settle down anywhere.

"Are you sure?" she whispered, as though she was afraid that someone might overhear them, even though they were in a closed room.

"Positive. This woman, I don't know _who_ she is or what she _wants_, but she's a hunter."

"Could she be-"

Dawn wasn't even sure she would be able to get the words "possessed" out. It seemed so wrong that she was discussing hunting and possessions in everyday, normal conversation. Of course, as she slowly realized, that was _normal_ to him. He lived in a world where that was as common as going out and buying groceries, or watching the news at night.

"Possessed?" he ventured. "Possibly."

"Why else would she report you?" Dawn wondered.

"Good question. That's why the odds are good that she's either been possessed or threatened by someone. Typically, hunters don't listen to threats, so the odds are in our favor that she's being controlled by something."

He didn't know whether or not it made him feel better or worse that it was a hunter that had ratted him out. It beat having to search for a regular human, but it also made the situation more dangerous if they had someone that was spying on them, that knew how to stay concealed and how to be crafty when it concerned the police.

"Have you ever seen her before?" Dawn asked, breaking the silent concentration he had been trying to get in order to analyze whether the woman was a threat or not.

"No. Where does it say she lives?"

He couldn't ever remember setting his eyes on her before, and he knew most of the hunting friends that he and Bobby shared in common. The mystery of it was that if they _didn't_ know her or didn't have any connections to her, why would this woman suddenly take such a huge interest in them?

"In Sioux Falls, technically, but she has a history of running and abandoning places. Most of the realtors in the area won't even do business with her because of her crap history of skipping out on rents and mortgages, and stuff like that."

"Wow," Caleb said, shaking his head. "So she's one of those hunters who likes to stay on the road."

"Apparently. Her criminal record isn't all that wonderful either."

"What is it?"

"Stalking, harassing, disorderly conduct."

"That's not a typical rap sheet of a hunter," Caleb said with a grimace. "Take it from me. It could be a _lot_ worse."

"Well, those are just the few that they managed to catch her on. She's also been accused of murder and assault, but no one could prove that it was her so there were never any formal charges that were filed."

"It makes me wonder why some of that luck didn't float on down to me," Caleb said, smiling a little. "So she manages to skirt past on _everything_, and then I'm the one who gets caught because of her."

"In a nutshell."

"And this is the one that wanted to remain anonymous?"

"Yes."

It wasn't surprising when he remembered who she was. Hunters were notorious for wanting to remain in secret, for wanting to remain as off the radar as they possibly could. Caleb was guilty of that, for wanting to be as private as he could with the boys and Bobby, and for good reason. Not everyone was as fortunate as this woman was to remain free from the prying eyes of the law enforcement.

Caleb was proof of that.

"Let me ask you this. Over the last few days or weeks, has anyone said _anything_ about Amber acting differently? Or spacing out? Anything like that at _all_?"

Those were the classic signs of possession, and while those signs weren't obvious to the outsider, that would be what Caleb and Bobby would use to see if whether she was possessed or not, or had acted under her own free will.

"Not that I've heard of," Dawn said with a shrug. "What would that have anything to do with-"

"It could mean a lot," he pressed firmly. "It could mean the difference between this girl just being a jerk and messing with me when it's none of her business, or it could mean that she was doing this and she wasn't aware of it."

"Well...I can try to contact her if you want me to, or see about talking to some of the people that she knows."

"Does she have a job anywhere?"

"Yes. A bookkeeper at the library here."

Caleb nodded, heaving a deep sigh. "If you can arrange a meeting with either me and her, or she and Bobby, that would be wonderful."

"What exactly would you do if you met with her?" Dawn asked nervously, as though she was seriously beginning to wonder if Caleb wouldn't just strangle her when she walked in the room.

"Come on, Dawn," Caleb said, rolling his eyes. "Even if I _wanted_ to do something to her, do you really think that'd be possible?"

She shrugged, clearly not having taken into account how heavily restrained he was, and the guards that were right outside the door. Even if they couldn't hear any of their conversation, they would know if something were to happen inside that room.

"Good point. I don't know if she'd be too receptive to wanting to meet with you since she was the one who put you here, but I can see if she wants to or not."

"Thank you."

"No problem."

* * *

It had been a rough day for Dean. Even though he was still excited about going after the gun once they had hatched the escape plan for Caleb and got him back out, waiting for that moment had been tricky for him once the euphoria had died down, and the anxiousness had replaced it.

He missed Caleb more and more with each passing day, and even though he was rewarded with near constant phone calls that still kept their bond strong, it was still hard to realize that he wasn't there with them physically, enjoying all the things that he and Sam were enjoying.

"Hey," Bobby said, coming into the living room where Dean had been camped out since early that morning after sleep in his bedroom had failed to achieve any lasting results.

"Hi," Dean said, barely lifting his head to acknowledge the hunter.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. What are you doing?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow, falling into the trap that Bobby was setting for him in attempting to get him out of the funk that he had been in.

"Talking to you."

"Must be pretty desperate," Dean said, shaking his head. "What else is up?"

"Not much. Sam's talking to Caleb right now, but you want to go in there so you can have your turn?"

Dean nodded, as he straightened up from his laid down position, before walking out into the kitchen where Sam was seated at the counter, phone in hand as he giggled over something that either he or Caleb had said.

Caleb's recent arrest and imprisonment had been hard on Sam to handle. It had been something that had been shocking and so sudden that he hadn't had real time to process it yet. Not like his brother had, who had been through the emotional hell of that more than once before.

Holding out his hand for the phone as he took a seat next to his brother, he was rewarded when Sam passed it over after saying a quick goodbye to Sam.

"Hey," Dean said, as he paused a moment to collect himself.

_Hey, bud. How are you doing?_

"Alright, I guess. It's been kind of a rough morning."

That was the understatement of the entire week, but it was the only word that would accurately describe what he had been through that day.

_I'm sorry. It's been kind of bad here, too._

Now that Dean was aware of it, he could definitely hear how exhausted Caleb sounded. It made him feel terrible for him, but he knew there was little he could do about it until they had formulated a plan that was strong enough to attempt doing.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, his voice catching on the last word. "What's been happening?"

_One of the inmates in my...cell block...started crap and it put the whole place on lockdown for a few hours._

"Is it okay now?" Dean asked.

_Yeah. It's all back to normal now._

"Good."

_Did Bobby tell you that we finally know who sent out the call to the cops?_

No, that was something that Bobby had _definitely_ neglected to tell him during the time that he had talked to Caleb before Sam, and now. Turning back to give Bobby a mock glare, he turned back to his conversation with him.

"No. Who was it? Anyone we know?"

They had been looking for the informant who had sold Caleb out to the police, and now that they finally had the answer, Dean wasn't even sure he wanted to know. Would good would it do now? It was all said and done, and Caleb was in jail because of that person.

_Ah...no. Amber Barnes. She's local, but she's _definitely_ a hunter. _

"So a hunter did this?" Dean said with a scoff. "_Why_?"

_That's what I would like to know_, Caleb said with a sigh. _It doesn't make sense that a hunter would sell out one of their own. Either it's something possession related, or she has some unknown grudge._

"Where does she live exactly?" Dean asked, not sure what he would do with that information, but also knowing that he would love nothing more than to put his hands around her and strangle her for all the heartache she had caused his family.

_I don't know for sure. Somewhere around there, but she also travels a lot, flakes on a lot of people and homes, so no one wants to deal with her around there anymore. _

"So she might have screwed us and then skipped town?" Dean said in incredulity.

_Maybe. I don't know. Dawn's trying to find her so we can arrange a little get-together here._

"You actually want to see her?"

_Hell no, but I want to know why. _


	16. Chapter 16

Amber Barnes.

A woman that Caleb had never laid eyes on before, but for some reason, had hated him so much that she had ratted him out to the police the first chance she got. It was honestly confusing, something that caused him to toss and turn at night as he struggled to figure out what he could have done, or what could have gone through another hunter's mind to rat out another to the police.

It was something that was maddening, too. If it hadn't been for this mysterious woman, he would have never been found by the police. Or if they had, he might have gotten a chance to escape before they captured him. Even though he doubted this woman would want to meet with him after the horrors she had put on his family, he still wanted to know _why_.

Why was the most common question he asked himself as he sat solitary in his cell, shuffling cards or pacing, anything to pass the time that seemed endless to him. Why had this woman called the cops on him? Why had she taken an interest in their family? And why had she not kept her nose out of their lives?

The whys of the situation tormented him, made him question _everything_ about what he once believed to be true about hunters and the strange sense of brotherhood that he thought they shared. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he allowed the guards to do what they had to do to restrain him in order to lead him back to the conference room where he had been allowed to conduct most of his meetings.

It wouldn't be the woman, or even Dawn this time, but Bobby. They had been wanting to arrange a meeting to discuss their options related to his escape, and also now, to discuss the developments with the woman and what the older hunter had been able to glean from researching her.

If there was one thing that hunters shared in common with one another, it was the ability to research any subject that they put their mind to. In this case, it wouldn't be another monster of the week, but would be another _human_, someone who was supposed to have had their side through better or worse.

It had been a few weeks since he had last seen Bobby, not since the cops had stormed the safe house and had carted him off in handcuffs after discovering his secret hiding place. The State prison was located a few miles outside of town, enabling Bobby to visit him far easier than it had been in Minnesota when the distance had been too difficult to allow for regular sessions.

He still looked the same as he remembered him from the last time he had seen him a few weeks previously. Same rough and gruff look, and same indifferent look on his face, but when they locked gazes with each other for the first time, he saw Bobby's face soften in the slightest as he turned stone-cold eyes on the guards as they made sure Caleb was seated before leaving the room.

Those guards were the bane of their existence, especially Caleb's. They were only doing what they had been paid to do, but they didn't make their lives any easier on them, or this horrific time that they were trying to survive through.

Scratching something, with difficulty, with his cuffed hands, Caleb sighed, wondering what to say that would be an appropriate way to start off the conversation that had been weeks in the making. He had so many questions that he hadn't been able to cover over their phone conversations.

How were the boys?

Were they doing okay?

What was the status of Bobby's plans for breaking him out again?

And what about the Colt?

Had Bobby been able to verify through Rufus that it was the real deal?

So many questions were swirling through his mind that it was difficult to put a lid on spouting them out all at once, as he shook his head in dark bemusement for what was happening.

"You gonna speak anytime soon?" Bobby joked, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them. It was hard for Bobby to see his good friend in such a horrible place, treated like someone that he _wasn't_, but even though he was having a hard time adjusting to the shock of it, he reminded himself that it was nothing compared to what Caleb had to live with day in and day out.

"No. I was just planning on sitting here and staring at the wall," Caleb teased back weakly.

He would have definitely felt in higher spirits had he known that he would be allowed the gift of walking back out of that room with Bobby. Of course, that was impossible. The judge had made that clear when he had sentenced him to the original two years behind bars with credit for time served.

"How are you holding up in this place?" Bobby asked, looking around at the sparse room.

"Some days are better than others, I guess."

It was true; on some days, his confinement wasn't as hard as it was on other days. The days where he didn't have much in the way of distractions, was when he got down and depressed about his circumstances, and when he knew that there was nothing he could do to change the opinions and decisions of those who mattered in the case.

"I can believe that. Are they treating you okay?"

Caleb nodded, biting down hard on his lip in order to keep the irksome tears at bay. It wouldn't help to cry like that, and even though he knew that it would be a merciful release, it wasn't something he wanted to do while he was trying to enjoy the first real human contact he had had in days.

"Y—yeah, it's okay. They're good as long as I am."

"Are you doing okay?" Bobby pressed, catching the break in Caleb's tone when he answered the question.

"It's been rough around here. It's still hard to believe that I keep having to be here when I didn't do anything to deserve it."

"I know that, but just because you didn't do anything to provoke it, doesn't mean that the bad slides won't come, you know?"

Caleb nodded. "I know, man. It's difficult not being around the boys, and not being apart of that."

"Well, even though you aren't there physically, you are _very_ much there in our minds, Caleb. I mean it, those kids can't stop talking about you and asking when we're going to do what we're going to do."

Even though the guards were on the opposite sides of the wall, it still made Bobby apprehensive when taking into account their sketchy past with the legal system, and how they _always_ seemed to know what they were doing at all hours.

Bobby knew that they needed to discuss the initial planning of the breakout, but he also wanted to make sure that they wouldn't be caught in the process of that. If the DA was scrambling to make charges against him stick, he knew they would have no issue if they were to find out that he was helping his friend stage another breakout.

"That means a lot," Caleb said, this time not able to stop the few tears that slid down his face as he raised his hand to wipe them away. "I miss those kids more than I can even put into _words_."

That was the hardest part of his continued imprisonment. The forced separation from Sam and Dean was the _one_ thing that made being locked up unbearable for him. It wasn't right or fair that the courts thought they had the right to separate the three of them from each other, and not to mention the four of them.

Together they were nearly unbreakable as a family. Apart, it was horrible because they knew they weren't whole without being together.

"They miss you," Bobby said firmly. "_All_ the time. Dean can't stop asking when we're going to do something about getting you out, and Sammy's been more quiet than usual, but he asks the same questions that Dean does, too."

"How are they holding up with all this?"

It wasn't easy for the boys when he was gone, and he fully understood that and wished that he was able to be there to be with them physically. Having their couple times a week phone conversations, helped the relationship he had with them, continue to grow, but it was nothing compared to the incomparable feeling they all got from being under one roof.

"Oh, you know," Bobby said with a sigh. "Dean tries to be strong for Sammy, but he has pretty rocky days a lot of the time. You guys have that rock solid bond, and he's pretty lost without it, to be honest."

"I feel the same way. What about Sam? How is he doing?"

Even though he and Dean shared an incredible relationship, he and Sam still had their own bond with each other that, while was different from the one he shared with Dean, was still just as strong in just a different way.

"He's been alright," Bobby answered truthfully. "It's hard for him to see his brother so upset over what's happened, but he misses you a lot, Caleb. He can't quit asking me when something's going to happen that will break you out of this prison."

Caleb tried to smile, but it fell short. He would have loved to have had the boys come and see him, but he knew that would be fraught with nightmares that neither of the boys were fully aware of, but that Caleb most definitely was. It wasn't anything he felt comfortable with them seeing, having to see him in a jail setting with guards and restraints. It wasn't something that needed to be implanted in their innocent brains.

"Yeah. I can't wait for that either."

"I spoke with a few people," Bobby said, as he twisted his hands around each other.

"About the plan?"

"Yes. Jefferson can't do it for obvious reasons, but I talked to an associate of his, Patrick, and he might be able to swing it."

"Who is he?"

"A close friend of Jefferson's. What's more, he has knowledge of the security cameras from working at a jail before he got into all this."

"Are you _serious_?" Caleb said incredulously, not even able to believe the stroke of luck that had been thrust into his lap. Even if he didn't know this Patrick from a hole in the wall, at least he would have the extensive knowledge of security needed to ensure that they did everything right this time around.

"Completely. He's talking to Patrick about it right it now, and he's supposed to call me if it will work out or not."

"Okay."

Just the _idea_ of finally being able to be freed from the prison, was enough to lift his spirits in just the slightest. He knew that this time would be much different because the guards would be on the lookout for the same behavior from him that had directly come right before his escape, and he knew that he would have to act on the part well in order to get out once and for all.

"We'll figure it out. One way or another."

"I know. What about you? Did you hear from the DA?"

"I did," Bobby said with a small smile. "They can't prosecute. At least not as of this moment, not when there's too much up in the air concerning my alleged 'involvement' in the crime."

Finding out that the DA had opted out of charging him in connection with Caleb's original escape, was a stroke of luck that he hadn't counted on to have happen, and it was the one thing that he had needed to hear that week.

"That's amazing," Caleb said. "At least something is going right for one of us."

"It will happen. We just have to get everything in line first."

"Right."

* * *

The diner was nondescript, located right outside of Sioux Falls in one of its neighboring college towns. It was small, rainy, the kind of place where you would go to meet someone that didn't want to be found, and certainly not when that someone had turned in one of your closest friends. Even though Bobby felt a rare surge of animosity toward this Amber woman, a fellow hunter no less, he tried to keep his feelings in check until he had actually sat down across from her.

The waitress barely spared him a glance as she led him over to a table by the window, one where he would be able to observe everyone that came into the establishment. From talking with people who knew of her, he knew that she liked to favor this diner in order to research her next case.

Slapping a menu down in front of him, the woman ran off to get him his complimentary coffee. Pretending to pay attention to the menu in front of him, he kept one eye on the window that he was seated next to as he looked at all the passing citizens of the town walk by.

Only one he was looking for.

When the cowbell rang above the entry door, signaling the arrival of another customer, he tried to keep a discreet watch as the same waitress that had assisted him, walked by with the woman that he recognized from the photo that he had seen from when Dawn had brought over a copy of the police report.

Weighing his options the best he could, he waited until she had almost walked by him, before reaching out and grabbing her bony wrist. Her hunter instincts flared up almost instantly, from the way that she blocked the advance, but when she realized who it was, her fight stopped.

"Bobby Singer," she breathed.

"Hello, Amber."


	17. Chapter 17

It was obvious from the way that her oceanic blue eyes darted around the immediate establishment, that she was expecting other company other than the lone hunter, but he was the only one present after having a careful discussion with Caleb that had dissuaded him from following up on his initial instincts of having his _own_ face-to-face meeting with her. Bobby, being free from the claustrophobic prison atmosphere, had more leeway as to what he could do and say to this woman who had invaded their lives for whatever unspeakable reason there was, and he fully planned on taking advantage of the attention she had granted him from his surprise advance.

Nudging the leg of the chair across from him with his foot, a none-verbal signal for her to sit down, he waited and watched as she silently contemplated her options and what they _both_ could do to each other in a crowded diner. When it became clear that the cons of refusing the meeting far outweighed the pros, she sat down with an impatient huff after waving off the concerned waitress who had witnessed most of the odd exchange.

For a second, neither of them spoke to one another as they each appraised each other, trying to guess as to what move the other would make first in order to be prepared for it. It was typical hunter behavior when cornered unexpectedly by another, especially if the others motives were unclear to the other party.

"Bobby Singer," she said, exhaling slowly in surprise, as though she couldn't believe that she had stumbled upon the legendary hunter herself. "I have to say that legend doesn't do you justice."

"Well, you know," he said, as he raised his coffee glass to his lips to drink the bad caffeine that the diner thought was actually _decent_. "I would say it's nice to meet you, but I don't like to lie."

The flirtatious smile that she had plastered on her face, disappeared the instant he had said those words, to be replaced with one of a deep concern, and even fear, as she pursed her lips together into a tight line, obviously thinking over her next course of action as she grasped her coffee cup and took a soothing sip to distract from answering him.

"Then why are you talking to me, Mr. Singer?" she asked smoothly. "I don't like to be where I'm not wanted."

"Christo," Bobby muttered, before he had a chance to back out. When her body didn't do so much as _flinch_, he relaxed and focused more on his interrogation with her and why she had opted to call the police on them instead of coming to them with her concerns, whatever they were.

"What?" she said, her eyebrows pulling together into a tight, confused line.

"I want to know why," he said, speaking louder.

It was obvious that either she was a very good actress from the way that her mouth quirked into a bewildered look, or she had had years of developing her poker face, but whatever the truth was, it wasn't anything that Bobby was interested in.

"Why _what_?" she asked.

"I think you know," he replied testily, leaning foreword across the table so that they could converse in relative privacy.

"No...I don't..."

"Give me a break. I know damn well that you called the police on my friend, Caleb Rivers."

Realization at what he was talking about, finally crossed over her face as she took her sweet time spreading her napkin out over her lap, clearly taking that time to formulate a response that would cover the horrible thing that she had done to them.

Bobby wasn't interested in whatever excuse she had—nothing would excuse the fact that she had gotten involved in something that hadn't even concerned her, and had taken someone dear away from them.

Already he could feel his heart race with the anger that he felt toward this woman, a complete stranger to him, but someone who had been responsible for a lot of hell in their family, and the fact that two boys were grieving the fact that Caleb wasn't there with them, and that Caleb was now sitting and rotting in a state prison facility.

"That...I can explain that," she said nervously, fully aware of how much she had crossed the line with a family that she didn't even know, but had taken it upon herself to act anyway.

"I don't think there's any explanation in the _world_ that could suffice for sticking your nose where it didn't belong," Bobby said, feeling sorely tempted to strangle her, but knowing that would only attract the wrong kind of attention in a crowded diner.

"I was concerned."

"About _what_?" Bobby demanded incredulously.

"The boys—the kids."

If it hadn't been for the fact that she had noticed the boys with Caleb and Bobby when they first arrived at the safe house, she would have left well enough alone and let the police sort it out for themselves, but the idea of two little children being subjected to that kind of life, was one thing that she couldn't live with herself if she didn't do something to stop it.

The answer momentarily took Bobby aback as he looked at her. Rarely, if ever, did they come across opposition from hunters when it concerned them raising the boys in the life. It was because they had chosen a different route, a different way of raising them that it had worked so well. It was only the last few months that they had had to divert from their original plan, and raise them on the road, something they had never wanted to do in the first place.

"Are you kidding me?" he said, shaking his head. "_That's_ what it was about?"

"Not entirely. I know you two are hunters, and I couldn't stand the idea of them being raised on the road like that, and then with other man, Caleb, being on the run from the police, I didn't want the boys being put in danger anymore."

"You listen to me," Bobby said, rapidly overcoming the shock that had first clouded his senses when she had revealed her reason. "You don't have a damn clue what you're talking about, lady. Those boys are two of the most loved and adored kids on the planet, and for you to sit and tell me how we should raise them-"

"I didn't want them-"

"Save it," Bobby said. "Thanks to you, Caleb is in prison right now, and those two boys that you claimed to want to love and protect, are absolutely heartbroken right now."

"I didn't mean-"

"I don't care," Bobby said, beginning to slide out of his seat. "I'll tell you something, I better not ever see you again. Is that clear?"

Amber nodded numbly, clearly surprised at his outburst. "I was threatened."

"By who?" he asked slowly, sliding back into his seat.

"I don't know. He never identified himself. It was over the phone."

"What did he tell you?" Bobby asked skeptically, not sure he believed her or not after all the bizarre things she had just spouted out to him. It absolutely infuriated him that she could look at the boys and judge the whole picture based on the fact that she somehow put together the fact that they were being taught to hunt.

"He said that he needed to get one of you out of the way, and that Caleb would be the easier target because of the cops looking for him. He said," she paused as she whipped out a Kleenex from her pocket. "He said that if I didn't follow through, he would harm someone close to me."

"You'll forgive me if I have a hard time believing a word that comes out of your mouth," Bobby said.

He could appreciate the fact that she may have been threatened by someone, maybe even the demon, but he knew what the right course of action would have been, and it certainly wasn't rising to the bait and allowing someone innocent to go to jail.

"You can believe what you want, but it's the _truth_," she said firmly. "I'm sorry for what I caused you. I'm not sorry for protecting the person that I love, and those two boys-"

"Don't bring them into this," Bobby interjected. "Just go."

Amber paused, as though considering whether or not she should go out on a limb and say more, but it was clear from the way that Bobby was sliding out of his seat, that he was done with the conversation already.

"Fine."

Watching as the petite woman slid out of her seat, Bobby took a few moments to collect himself from the bizarre interview he had just had with her. The last excuse he had been prepared to hear from this woman, was that she was doing it out of a strange sense of protection for the boys.

Little had she known that she had been doing more harm than good by splitting up their family, and that someone had called and threatened someone she loved. That part was believable, but the idea that she would actually take it upon _herself_ to act as the boys' protector, was astounding to him. Shaking his head in simple astonishment, he finally left the diner and headed back home to the safe house.

The boys, Dean especially, would be waiting for news on what had gone down during the interview, and he had no doubt that they would react with the same confusion and rage that he had felt during the entire talk with the woman.

At first she had played dumb, not knowing why she had been ambushed by the veteran hunter, but when she had been confronted with the cold, hard truth about her involvement in their current hell, she had finally cracked, but instead of admitting guilt and taking responsibility for it, she had proceeded to guilt him by saying she thought he and Caleb were putting Sam and Dean in danger, when in reality, she had no clue how much danger they would be in if they didn't have the proper training against the YED.

* * *

Sliding out of his seat and going out into the chilly, early evening air, he slid into his truck as he started back down the rainy, country road back toward the safe house. They were having leftovers that night, that saved him from having to think up something decent to cook for dinner.

As he turned into the spacious driveway for the house, he was mentally trying to come up with the explanation needed as to why this woman had taken such an unexpected interest in their family. If she was being threatened by a demon, he understood her plight, but in his mind, it did nothing to help her when she had done what she had done.

Walking through the kitchen and into the living room where the boys were, he smiled softly when he saw them lounging lazily on the sectional sofa as they watched a cartoon show on the television. He was pleased to see that Dean had ventured out of his room.

So far, he had been better about staying out and interacting with his family, but on the bad days, he often retreated to the privacy and sanctuary of his bedroom. Looking up at his quiet approach, he saw that both of the boys' eyes were immediately drawn to him and what had happened during the impromptu talk.

"How are you idjits doing?" Bobby asked, as he jokingly almost sat on Sam, who instantly moved away to avoid a nasty collision with his much taller and heavier guardian.

"Good," Dean said with a shrug. "How did it go with that girl?"

When Dean had first heard that another hunter had been the one to rat them out, he had been honestly confused as to why this woman, for whatever reason, had felt the need to get involved in something that hadn't even concerned her. It was confusing, and it was something that made him want to fall apart all over again, especially considering how easily the situation could have been avoided.

"It was...interesting," Bobby said, finally settling on the one word that would best describe the talk they had engaged in.

"What does that mean?" Sam asked curiously, as he reached over to turn the TV off to give Bobby his full and undivided attention on the one subject that he had been waiting for an answer for ever since Bobby had walked out the door.

"She said that she saw us, you guys, with Caleb and I, and because she didn't 'approve' of kids being raised in this kind of life, she called the police."

The stunned silence that met his ears following his statement, was only fleeting. Dean was the first to verbally react as he scoffed in complete astonishment that it had been for something so stupid that she had first reported them.

"So because of us she called them-" he began.

"That's what she thinks," Bobby said. "She also said that someone, probably a demon, had called and threatened the life of someone she loved if she didn't follow through with it."

"You think she was telling the truth?" Dean asked, trying to keep a lid on his burgeoning emotions.

"I think that part, yes. The demon said that he wanted one of us out of the way to reach you kids easier, and said that Caleb would be the easiest one to get rid of because of the police attention on him."

The knowledge that the demon might be working through other people to try to reach them, wasn't lost on the boys, especially Dean, who bowed his head low to shield the tears of frustration and sadness that he could feel over the entire, horrible situation they were in.

"So this girl said that-"

"Said that someone called and threatened her and someone she loved," Bobby confirmed.

"Do you know anything about your friend?" Sam asked. "Is he definitely going to help us get Caleb out or not?"

"He is. I talked to him before I left."

"When is he going to do it?" Dean asked, not able to hide the exultant grin that he shared with Sam at the thought of finally being reunited with Caleb.

"This week sometime."


	18. Chapter 18

It wasn't an easy procedure to plan out. The guards would already be well-aware of the tricks that Caleb had pulled in order to escape the first time in the maximum-security unit back in Minnesota. For their friend, Patrick, to succeed, he would have to possess knowledge of the inner workings of the security system in the minimum-security unit there in Sioux Falls where Caleb was being housed.

Patrick was a friend of Jefferson's, the first man who had been able to break Caleb out by posing as a CO. This time, according to the initial phases of the planning, there wouldn't be any need for a cover-up because the breakout would happen in the middle of the night when security was scarce, and he could stop the cameras from recording the inmates, thus allowing Caleb to sneak out under the cover of total privacy, and also be able to get further away without anyone being none the wiser until morning when the regular staff started flocking in.

For Bobby, this was about as close to a risky move as they had ever pulled off before. He knew that they needed to do this for the boys, and so that they would have strength in numbers, but he also knew how many things could go wrong during this time, and though he knew how experienced Patrick was in manipulating the system, he couldn't help but draw back on other past experiences with the police, and how all roads _always_ seemed to lead back to them.

It wasn't a comforting thought, but he was relieved when Patrick suggested he come over to the safe house to walk all of them through the plan that he would act upon sometime later that week. The boys were excited to meet him, especially Dean, who had waited long enough to finally see his guardian again, and just wanted the whole nightmare over so they could then focus their efforts on finding the Colt gun.

Even though the gun hadn't been seen for years, there were tips from other sources that suggested it was somewhere in the area of Colorado, and that was enough for Bobby to go on, but he knew that they needed the _whole_ family together before they embarked on such a treacherous journey, especially with the knowledge that they would renew police interest in them yet again.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he went out into the kitchen where the boys were just finishing up their schoolwork. Home-schooling had been the only choice when it became clear that they couldn't go to a conventional school because of their unpredictable lifestyle.

So far, they had both excelled at it, even Dean, who liked the thought of working at his own pace, and having 'teachers' who would help him understand whatever problem he was having with the lesson, instead of making him feel bad or stupid, like some of the teachers in his school had made other students feel like.

"Are you almost done?" Bobby asked, as he caught a peek at the lesson that they were doing.

"Yeah, just about," Dean said, as he bit down on his bottom lip in concentration as he wrote out another answer to the problem. "When is Patrick going to be here?"

It wasn't often that they brought anyone in from the outside. They had a small group of people that knew and trusted them, and it wasn't often that they shook the boat by inviting new hunters into their lives when their motives were unclear, and when it wasn't certain if they could be trusted or not.

Patrick, being a friend of a friend that they knew, was someone that they felt better about bringing into their lives, especially if he would prove instrumental in helping them get Caleb back out.

"Pretty soon, that's why I was asking," Bobby said, as he went to look out the window that stood above the kitchen sink.

"I'm through," Sam said, as he happily hopped down from the stood that he had been sitting his butt in for the past hour.

"Good job, Sammy," Bobby said, teasingly ruffling his hair up. "Why don't you get some lunch before he gets here?"

"Okay."

"I'm done," Dean said, as he handed his paper to Bobby, and got down to get some snacks out of the pantry. "So Patrick thinks he can get this done this _week_?"

"Supposedly," Bobby warned, "but he has to be careful when he's going into a secure place like that."

"Yeah, no kidding," Dean said, as he popped the lid off the can on his soda. "How long has Jefferson known the guy?"

"I have no idea. He knows him well enough that he feels he can trust him with helping us."

And that was the most important thing to all of them. They knew close friends like Jefferson and the Harvelles, and knew that they would never send anyone their way that wasn't safe, and didn't have the best of intentions with helping them.

Still it was scary to trust someone that they had never laid eyes on for themselves before. Glancing over at Sam, who had finished his quick lunch, Dean smiled as he helped him clear away the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, it was things like this that distracted him from whatever issues he was facing, and this was one of those times when he needed something to steady him.

"It will be _so_ good to see Caleb again," Sam said eagerly, already anticipating the time when he would be able to come home to them again. They had been through this too many times before, and they were all ready for it to be over, for them to have a peaceful life once again, without the threat of jail or prison hanging over their heads.

"Yeah, I know," Dean said. "Hopefully he can stay with us permanently this time."

He had been through times where his mind had played tricks on him, made him believe that things would be okay again and Caleb would be allowed to stay with them, but he had always been bitterly disappointed when something _else_ happened that kept him away from them.

He wasn't going to get his hopes up until the plan had been executed, and Caleb was back with them and they were on their way to find the elusive Colt gun.

"I think it might work this time," Bobby said. "For one thing, it won't be in the middle of the day where the other guards are walking all around. It will be Patrick this time, and he'll make sure all the security footage is destroyed so they can't use it for reference."

Dean nodded. "Good."

Not having the security footage handy meant that the police would have almost an impossible time pinning down an exact time for his escape. It was something that gave Dean a little bit of hope, but he wouldn't actually feel any _actual_ relief until Caleb walked through the door again.

With those thoughts running through his mind, he almost missed it when the doorbell rang, signaling the newcomer's arrival. Giving the boys a look, Bobby went to answer it while they stayed seated. In the foyer, they could hear Bobby conversing with Patrick, before their heavy footsteps announced that they were traveling back to the kitchen.

"Sam, Dean, this is Patrick," Bobby said, introducing a man that appeared to be in his thirties, early forties, much like Caleb's age. "Patrick, this is Sam and Dean."

"It's nice to meet you both," Patrick said, his dark brown eyes meeting each of theirs before taking a seat where Bobby showed him.

"So what's the plan?" Bobby asked. "Jefferson said you could pull this off?"

"That's right. I was once a corrections officer, if you can believe it, and so I know most of their security measures and when would be the optimal time to pull something of this magnitude off."

Leaning down, he retrieved some expertly drawn diagrams of the prison where Caleb was located. Trying to ignore the hollow pull his stomach made when he glimpsed the drawn facility where Caleb was, Dean tried to look at the points he was making as he explained what he would do when the time came for action.

"What are you going to do about the cameras?" Dean asked quietly.

"That will be my main concern going in," Patrick said, as he pointed with his pen at the labels that marked where the cameras would be stationed. "Camera B is located right over the entire cellblock unit. In the control room, I can switch it off before I go down there and get him."

"What about any other cameras?" Sam asked.

"It's all in the control room. I can switch 'em off so they won't record anything. By the time the guards come the next morning to take over for me, we'll be long gone and there won't be any evidence of where he's gone, or anything like that."

It sounded like an excellent plan in theory, especially since Patrick was sure he would be able to sneak in undetected, and tinker with the cameras that would make or break their escape.

"How do you plan on fitting in?" Bobby asked, voicing the first concern that he had as he studied the man.

"I'll pose as one of them, as one of the guards. The guards have access to those rooms, and I'll be able to switch it off when most of them have cleared out for the night."

"How many will be on call during the night?" Dean asked.

"Only two, me included. Night is, generally, the easiest time so there aren't a lot of reasons to have an arsenal of people there."

He had a good point, and Dean knew that it was the right one, too. The prison knew that most of the problems with inmates happened during the time they had free reign over the prison during rec time. The nighttime was the only time they had to relax and not worry about possible escape attempts, or violence from anyone.

"So what happens when you get him out of the cell?" Bobby asked, already creating a mental picture in his head of what this would look like so he would be prepared for anything should something go wrong.

"We get out of the compound, and then we stick close to the lesser traveled roadways until we come here."

"Then we're leaving right away," Bobby said. "We're going to Colorado for a job."

"Okay, that will be perfect, then. The less time you spend in the area, the better."

"When can you do this?" Dean asked, already feeling his heart race as a direct result of knowing that he would soon be reunited with Caleb.

"Thursday, two days from now."

* * *

The waiting was nearly impossible for Caleb. He knew, from speaking with Patrick, that the escape would happen _that_ night. It was hard for him to contain the excitement that he could bubbling below the surface as he went through his normal routine in the prison, all the while keeping a discreet eye on his friend, who had gotten into the system the day before as a corrections officer, someone who would be capable of breaking him out and manipulating the cameras so they didn't record the highly illegal escape.

The dinner hour was the last official thing to happen before the inmates were locked in their cells for the night. Some of the inmates were allowed out to eat and socialize with their fellow neighbors, Caleb was one of the few who had earned that right after weeks of good behavior that had resulted in him getting small rewards for it.

Being allowed out more was one of those rewards.

When the guards led him back to his cell and slammed and locked the door behind him, he didn't feel any of the usual dread that accompanied that action happening. He knew that, come later that night, he would be free from the oppressive prison setting and be allowed back home where he belonged.

Lounging on his bunk as he tried to focus on a book he had gotten, he could hardly focus on the print on the page before him as he finally gave up his efforts and laid back down. The lights went out around nine, blanketing the cell in complete darkness.

Trying to control the uncontrollable pounding of his own heart, he waited and listened for any sounds from the outside that would signal Patrick's arrival once he had done his part in turning off the cameras once the other guards had left the building for the night.

When he finally heard a distinct pair of footsteps reach his ears, he breathed a sigh of relief as he flipped off his bed to go meet his new found friend at the cell door. Patrick was there, breathing like he had just run a marathon as he used his special key to unlock the door.

"About time," Caleb said, giving him a joking punch in the shoulder.

"Sorry. I had to wait until the last guy left to go on break before I turned everything off. We don't have a lot of time," Patrick said, as he tossed him some of his clothes. "Put these on over the jumpsuit until we can stop somewhere."

"Okay."

Grateful to be slipping into something _other_ than the hideous orange that he had had to live with for the last few weeks, he put on the black t-shirt and jeans, with difficulty, over the jumpsuit. He could change into something more comfortable once he reached the safe house, before he and Bobby and the boys hit the road again.

Thinking about seeing Sam and Dean again gave him an extra spring to his step as he walked with Patrick down the long cellblock unit and out the main part of the jail that housed the front desk and booking area, and finally out into the pleasantly warm night air.

Breathing deeply in relief, he slipped into the car of Patrick's that had conveniently been stripped of its license plate to allow for even more difficult detection by the police officers.

Relaxing against the front seat, he couldn't believe that the escape had gone off as well as it did. Before, when he had done it in broad daylight, he had almost been caught by the corrections officers, but had managed to slip under the fence at the last minute.

"Are you relieved?" Patrick asked, catching the astonished look on his friend's face.

"Yeah, I am. I can't believe that your plan actually worked. No offense," he added.

"None taken. What's the first thing you're going to do when you get back home?"

There were so many things he wanted to do when he got back home. The first and foremost thing was spending time with the kids, before packing everything up and going back on the road to look for the gun.

"Spend some time with the kids, and then get back on the road," he finally said, once he was aware that he had to answer his question.

"Sounds good to me."


	19. Chapter 19

It was hard to believe, even for Caleb, how completely and utterly exhausted he was by everything that had transpired during the last few weeks. He wasn't usually one to complain about himself, or focus on something that didn't really matter, but he could feel how brick-heavy his eyes were as he tried in vain to keep them open during the long drive to the safe house.

It was a combination of so many things that had happened to him over the last several weeks. Being on the run, getting a chance at rest and relaxation before being caught and arrested by the officers, and then sent back to the county jail, and then ultimately transferred to the state prison where he had endured a countless number of sleepless nights before _finally_ being sprung by the goodness of his new friend, Patrick.

The chaos of everything happening at once, was too much for his body to handle, especially when it had already been put through so much. He knew that once they reached the safe house, he would be able to spend some quality time with the kids, before packing everything up and going back on the road to look for the gun, and to get as far away from Sioux Falls as they could possibly go.

Barely containing the yawn that eventually escaped from between his clenched teeth, he looked at the time on the car clock and sighed. It was almost ten at night. Once they reached the safe house, they would be on the road again in order to put distance between _them_ and the ruthless law enforcement officials.

It was a horrible downside to the life, having to constantly be on the run from people who refused to understand the unforgivable position they had put innocent people in. It was too much to contemplate over a mind that had nearly zero hours of sleep, and not enough food in his stomach to satisfy him.

"You doing okay, man?" Patrick asked, clearly catching the look of complete tiredness wash over his friend's face. He understood it perfectly, if he had been stuck in that tiny cell for weeks, he was sure that he would be on the verge of a complete breakdown.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm just whipped," Caleb said honestly.

"I can understand. Why don't you try to close your eyes until we get back? It won't be for another forty minutes or so."

That seemed like as good of an idea as any. Especially with the time he had to kill before arriving back at the safe house. The prison was located nearly an hour away from the house, giving him some time to rest up before the chaos resumed in his life again, and he and Bobby were forced back on the road to both escape from the police, and look for the elusive Colt gun.

Scooting down in his seat, he turned his head away from his friend and tried to do what he told him, and closed his eyes. It was hard when his heart was jumping around with the anticipation of finally seeing the boys again, and going back to that crazy sense of normal that they had adopted, but it was something he wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

Eventually, much to his relief, his thoughts turned away from his brain and he was able to doze loosely for a little while. It was something he had needed desperately since being sentenced to do the time, and it was something that he was now getting, thanks to the fact that he was on his way home to see the boys, and he was free from the horrible prison setting.

It surprised him, how tired his body and brain were from all the excitement it had been through in recent weeks. Pretty soon, the loose sleep that he had been engaged in, turned to a full-on _deep_ sleep as the car rolled soothingly down the road, lulling him to the kind of rest that he needed badly.

He was in such a deep sleep that it momentarily took him by surprise when a hand reached out and shook his shoulder. Reacting with the defensive instincts that had been inbred in him for nearly a decade, he relaxed when he saw that it was only Patrick, and not some enemy that was trying to sneak up on him.

"Sorry. It's just me. We're here."

Squinting in the sudden light that assaulted his senses from the car door opening next to him, he saw that, indeed, they were in the safety of the safe house that was free from any demon crossing through the iron barriers that had been built around it.

It almost made him backtrack on his original plan of leaving right away in order to go find the gun. At least, even though they ran the extremely high risk of being found out again, they were safe from the YED and whatever tricks it was trying to pull against them.

Running a hand over his face, he sighed deeply before unbuckling his seat belt. Stepping out onto the crunchy, dewy grass he breathed in the fresh night air that he hadn't had a chance to properly enjoy in weeks, as he and Patrick walked in through the open garage and up the steps that led right to the kitchen.

At first glance, it was empty, but he knew that could mean anything when it was fairly large for a ranch-style. Walking on the hardwood floor, his boots slamming against it, he was rewarded with the sight of Bobby as he bent over the center kitchen table, checking some last minute facts before looking up and catching sight of his friend.

"I take it everything went okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question, even though Caleb could tell that he was relieved everything had gone off without a hitch in sight.

"More or less," Patrick said, shrugging. "I got the cameras disabled, and then we enacted our plan."

"And no one will know _anything_?" Bobby asked.

"No. The cameras covering that particular cellblock, were all shut off by me before I went back down. The license plates for the getaway car, were removed before I went in."

"Excellent," Bobby said, not entirely believing that everything had gone off so perfectly. "Now we just have to pack everything up and get on the road."

"Yeah," Caleb said, dreading having to leap right back into action when he had just gotten out of the exhausting situation he had been stuck in. "Thank you so much," he added, turning to Patrick. "I owe you _big_ time."

"Nah," Patrick said, waving his concern away with a literal movement of his hand. "You don't owe me _anything_. I'm just glad I could help out another innocent person. It's not too often that works out."

Caleb knew, from dear experience, that that was the absolute truth. It still shocked him that someone that didn't even know him, had been willing to go out on a limb to make sure that he would be saved from almost certain torment behind bars. His actions had enabled him to return to his family, and to make sure that they all stayed together again, hopefully for good.

"I'm still grateful," Caleb said sincerely, as he reached out to shake his hand. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

Waiting until he had left, Caleb sighed again as he took a seat on one of the stools that had been pulled up against the island counter. It was full of the necessary research that had been gleaned from learning more about the Colt gun. Caleb had heard legends about it, like most hunters had, but had never really put much stock in the matter until it had been verified through Rufus.

"So are you exhausted?" Bobby asked, catching sight at the look on Caleb's face.

"You have no idea. Where are the boys?" Caleb asked, standing up from his place as he looked around for the two kids that he had been dying to see ever since breaking out.

"They are downstairs looking for some flashlights for the road. I actually need you to make sure that they're packed. I think they are, but I need you to bring their bags to the front door."

"On it," Caleb said, as he walked down the hall to their respective rooms to make sure their things were packed and ready to go. Not surprisingly, they were. The boys were good about following orders, especially ones as serious as these were.

Going around, making sure everything was packed and ready, it was a chaos and stress that was familiar to him, and it was one that he welcomed with open arms. He loved the packing, he loved running around the house making sure everything was in place, but he knew that now he needed to go downstairs and surprise the boys.

"Going downstairs?" Bobby asked, once he saw that Caleb had brought the boys' things to the front door.

"Yeah. Scare them, make sure that they got the flashlights, that sort of thing," Caleb said with a grin that hadn't been in place since before he had been arrested.

Going down the stairs, he tried to be quiet about it, but it was difficult when one of the stairs creaked. Luckily, he managed to accurately guess which one it was, and narrowly avoided it as he reached the bottom landing of the messy basement.

In the adjacent room, he could hear their soft voices as they moved different boxes and things around to look for the lost lights. Walking carefully down the cement floor, he turned a corner into the recreation area and saw them bent over some boxes to look for the flashlights Bobby needed.

"I don't see them," Sam whined, completely oblivious to the fact that Caleb was standing right behind them.

"Keep looking," Dean instructed. "He said that they should be in here somewhere."

"Why do we even need them?" Sam asked, as he walked over to another box and ripped the top open.

"If we break down somewhere in the middle of the night, it'd be good to have something to guide us with," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"You _know_," Caleb said, finally deciding to reveal himself to them. "I think they were in that box over there," he said, pointing to one in the corner of the room they hadn't gotten to yet.

Their individual reactions to finally seeing him again after so many weeks apart, was as comical as it was heartwarming for Caleb, as Sam immediately abandoned his previous mission and ran headlong into Caleb's waiting arms.

As Caleb lifted him up and gave him a giant bear hug, he felt tears spring to the corners of his eyes as he held the child close. This was something he had waited and yearned for for nearly a _month_, and it was _finally_ upon them as he gently swayed him back and forth before putting him back down.

"I missed you," Caleb said, his voice tight as he looked at Sam's face, which to his astonishment, was glistening with barely concealed tears as he tried to hold them back. "It's okay, buddy," he comforted softly.

"I know," Sam said, "I'm just really happy to have you back."

"I am too. Come over here," he said, turning to a frozen Dean, who obviously couldn't _believe_ that Caleb was finally there, finally standing in the same room as he was. "And give me a giant hug or you'll be _very_ sorry."

Grinning, Dean instantly obliged as he melted into Caleb's warm, tight embrace. This was something they had both been waiting for for so long, and now that it was finally there, it was hard to put into words how relieving it was. For Caleb, he was finally back where he belonged, taking care of those two boys who had completely captured his heart and love, and for Dean, who finally had the _one_ person besides his brother that he was closest to in the world.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Dean admitted, as he brushed away a few tears of his own. "I thought once the dick judge sentenced you to do that time again, I thought it wouldn't work out."

"To be honest, I did too," Caleb said. "I had my doubts early on, but I knew that we would always find a way to fix it, and I was right, wasn't I?"

Dean nodded, not able to stop the tears that ran down his face. "I hate to admit it," he said with a shaky smile, "but you were."

"That's right, bud. I'll always find a way back to you two. No prisons," he said firmly, "or guards or restraints, will keep me from you guys. Not ever."

Sam nodded, as he gave Caleb another hug. "I don't want you to ever leave again. Promise me?"

"I can't promise that," Caleb said, wincing when he knew that he would have to be truthful with them. "It wouldn't be fair to you guys, but I can promise that I will do everything _in_ and _beyond_ my power to stop them from getting me again."

"Okay," Dean said, "how did you get out?"

"The same way that Patrick and I worked out. He switched off the cameras, and then we snuck out and got in his unmarked car and took off."

"It didn't have the plates on it?" Dean asked, his face smoothing over into an incredulous grin. "That's awesome."

"He really thought of everything," Caleb agreed. "So," he said, clapping his hands. "What are we looking for?"

"Flashlights," Dean said. "Bobby kept bugging us all day to look for them, but we never got around to it until just now."

"Okay, so did you look through those boxes?" Caleb asked, pointing over at some boxes that appeared to have not been touched.

"Not yet. We were sorting through the ones near the front," Sam explained.

"Okay, you guys keep looking through those, and I'll rip those ones over there," Caleb said, pointing to the ones that he seen earlier in the corner.

"Cool," Dean said, as he resumed his searching with his brother. It was hard to keep looking through the boxes for the supplies they needed, when Caleb had just reentered their lives. It was as though he was afraid that if he turned around, Caleb wouldn't be there again.

Deciding to help Caleb, Dean abandoned his original post and went to stand next to him. He looked okay from what he could see. His coloring was the same, and his weight was still the same as he remembered it, but it was the emotional aspect of everything happening that he knew Caleb was probably struggling with.

"So how are you doing?" Dean asked quietly, trying to have as much of a private moment with him as he could.

"I'm doing okay. You?"

"Alright. You look exhausted."

It was true—he had dark circles under his eyes that signified to him that he had obtained little sleep since being taken into custody, and that made him sick to his stomach.

"I am, believe me, but I _did_ manage to catch some sleep in the car on the way here."

"Oh, that's good."

"Yeah, I know," Caleb said, rolling his eyes. "Bobby said you and Sam really wanted to see me when I was locked up."

Dean nodded, hiding his face partially from view as his mind unwillingly recalled that time just recently when he had been _desperate_ to see him, even if it was in the horrific atmosphere of a jail or prison where the sick rules they held, would prohibit them from touching each other. It was disgusting, and something that Dean knew he would have had the most trouble accepting if the visit had gone through.

"Yeah, we did. It was hard because you were gone, and I didn't know when I would get the chance to see you again. I know that Bobby said that you went to court to try to get the judge to agree to these conditions, and you were shot down."

Caleb nodded, remembering that time he had gone back to court to see if the judge would agree to allow his visits with Sam and Dean to be without the devastating presence of the handcuffs and shackles. Unfortunately, neither of them felt comfortable taking the boys to see him if those conditions weren't in place.

"We did go to court, but neither of us," he said, referencing Bobby. "Felt comfortable with you two seeing me in restraints like that. It wasn't anything that needed to be added to the pain that you were _already_ going through."

Dean nodded, understanding where the adults had been coming from when they had made that decision, even though it had still been miserable without having Caleb there to lighten the mood and joke and tease with them like he was always known to do.

"I know. I get it. It was just really difficult not being able to see you."

Caleb nodded. "Same here," he said, as he dug through more stuff and finally was able to produce the missing flashlights. "Found 'em," he said, trading a victorious grin with Dean. "Sam, we found them!"

"Okay," Sam called back, as they headed up the stairs.

Once up there, they saw Bobby packing up the rest of the supplies that they would need for the road. It wasn't easy to pack everything up, but they took as much as they had room for, and called it good. They didn't need much when they would be sleeping in motel rooms, and when money allowed it, someplace nicer.

"Did you find the flashlights?" Bobby asked, looking up at the three of them.

"Yes," Caleb said with a scoff. "Why in the hell did you bury them beneath ten tons of crap?"

"I have no idea. I got 'em and forgot about 'em. Did you know I talked to that girl?" he asked, as he brought more stuff by the front door.

"No," Caleb said with a laugh as he handed the boys their jackets to put on. "What did she have to say for herself?"

Knowing that the only reason he had been caught by the police, was because a fellow hunter had ratted him out, had been one of the biggest shockers of the entire ordeal he had suffered through. It didn't seem _fair_ or even _real_ that he had suffered through what he had, because someone had meddled into something that didn't even concern them.

"She said that she had done this because she saw the boys, and knew that we were raising them in the life. She didn't 'approve' so she called 911," Bobby said, shaking his head in incredulity at the bizarre conversation he had had with Amber Barnes.

"Is she crazy?" Caleb asked after a second. "Or stupid?"

"Both?" Dean suggested.

"I don't know," Bobby said, "but she said that was the reason, and the fact that she was also threatened by something. Maybe the demon. I don't know."

"Do we really believe that?" Caleb asked, as he passed out food and drinks for the boys to take in the car with them.

"It's plausible, but she could have gone about things in a _completely_ different way, and she didn't."

"Exactly," Caleb said, not feeling too much sympathy for a woman that might have doomed him to an immeasurable amount of time spent behind bars if it wasn't for Patrick and his extreme generosity in helping them.

"So are we ready to go?" Bobby asked.

"Yes."

It was late at night, and the boys were both tired from the long day that they had had that had culminated in the most wonderful surprise of finally being reunited with Caleb. Now, after they spent a brief time reuniting, they had to get back on the road to put as much distance between themselves and Sioux Falls before the authorities realized what had happened.

"We'll drive for a few hours, and then stop someplace so the boys can rest," Bobby said, as he and Caleb quietly talked over the plan while they loaded everything into their cars.

"Okay. At what point?"

"Halfway work?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

* * *

Grateful to have their own, respective cars still, Caleb was glad that he could still spend some more one-on-one time with the boys as they drove through the endless night in order to reach the first stop on the way to Colorado.

"I'm hungry," Sam said, from the backseat as he kicked his feet impatiently against the back of the seat.

"Did you guys have dinner before we left?" Caleb asked.

"Yeah, but it was earlier," Dean said.

"Alright," Caleb said, as he handed back some of their snacks. "Snack on these for awhile, and then we can stop for actual food, we can."

"Okay."

Glad that he had defused one potential crisis, he refocused his efforts on following Bobby through the highway traffic that was at a slower stream than usual thanks to the late hour.

"When are we going to be there?" Sam asked after awhile.

"Very soon."

* * *

_Awww:) I missed writing Caleb and the boys' interactions. What did you guys think of the reunion?_


	20. Chapter 20

The drive seemed to stretch on endlessly despite Caleb's assurances that it wouldn't be much longer. Bobby had mentioned wanting to make good headway before they stopped for the night to rest up, and that plan included making it halfway to their intended destination by stopping one state before it in Nebraska. The boys were used to this area from when they would often stop and see the Harvelle family, but they weren't crossing over into this area for fun and games like they had been known to do in the past.

This time they were only making a pit—stop before they had to drag themselves up from bed and climb back into their vehicles for the remainder of the trip. It wasn't hard to find a plethora of motel rooms that would be willing to accommodate the small family, but it was a matter of which ones would be safest for the _boys_, versus which ones would be the most easily accessible to them.

Following Bobby's lead as he took another soothing sip of his heavily sugared coffee, Caleb turned sharply off the near-empty freeway and onto the more peaceful motel parking lot. A hanging vacancy sign hung above them as Caleb stopped the car in front of the main outcropping of buildings that would house their room.

Glancing over next to him in the front seat, he saw that Dean had fully fallen asleep despite his excitement at finally having him back, and Sam had long ago lost the battle with sleep once the gentle rolling motion of the car had lulled him to sleep.

It was a trick they had used years before when Sam, as a baby, had been unable to sleep during the worst of nights when either a storm would hit, or he was too fussy. Either Caleb or Jim would pack him into the car, and drive him around the neighborhood until he would inevitably fall sound asleep.

Glad to see that the same was holding true for them now, but hating to awaken them from the slumber they obviously needed, he waited until Bobby had gone into the front office to pay for the room, before reaching over beside him to gently shake Dean awake.

He barely stirred at the intrusion as he simply moved further away from the touch. Caleb didn't blame him. He had been through a long day, and had finally fallen asleep about an hour before they had reached their destination.

"Dean," he said, speaking softly but with enough volume to hopefully jolt him to awareness. "Come on. We got to get out."

Again, no response.

Smiling softly in amusement, he shook him again, and this time got a response out of him as he blearily opened one eye in response to what his guardian had been trying to achieve for minutes now, as he gave him the kind of annoyed look that teens most often gave their parents or guardians when they had been rudely awoken out of a sound sleep.

"What?" he said, his voice still thick in the throes of sleep as he raised one hand to his eyes to attempt to wipe out the crust and the heavy feeling to them, as he tried to focus his eyes on something tangible so he wouldn't fall back asleep again.

"We just got here," Caleb explained as he shut the car off. "Bobby just paid for our room, so we have to get out now."

"Where—where are we?" Dean asked, as he shakily straightened up in his seat to look around the unfamiliar environment they had just arrived in. He had fallen asleep a ways back, but it seemed that he had only _just_ drifted off, but from the looks of it, he had been asleep longer than he thought.

"Nebraska. It's only a short stop to rest up, and then we'll get some more once we arrive in Colorado."

Nodding, Dean grabbed his stuff that was at his feet and stepped out into the chilly evening air. Shivering slightly, he watched as Caleb repeated the same moves that he made to wake him, with Sam, who was far more receptive to it than _he_ had been, as he got out of the car with a dramatic sigh, clearly not thrilled with being awake at that hour, even if it was necessary.

"How long do we have to rest up?" Sam asked, as he followed his brother and Caleb up the steps to the outside second floor where their room was located.

"A few hours," Caleb said, as he waited for Bobby to unlock the door to grant them access to the room. "So I would definitely take advantage of it."

"No duh," Dean said, rolling his eyes teasingly as he set his bag down on the floor beside the bed that he and Sam would share for that time. "That means no punching or hitting me," Dean added, turning to his brother who stared back innocently, as though he had no idea what he was talking about.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, as he bounced onto the crap motel bed, landing with a soft thud on the mattress as he immediately curled up underneath the covers.

"_You_," Dean said, laughing once as he switched from his day clothes to his night clothes. "In your sleep. You punch and kick me when you're trying to get a better spot."

"No, I don't," Sam said, rejecting that notion completely, even though he _knew_ it was true, and just not wanting to admit it.

"Uh, I think my bruised ribs say different."

"I'll be more careful," Sam said with a shrug. "If I remember when I'm half _asleep_."

"Just do your best," Caleb said, putting an end to the dispute right there. "If you need to, Dean, you can share with one of us," he added, looking over at Bobby who was setting up his own little bed on the fold-out couch in the room.

"Thanks. I may just take you up on that."

Deciding to try it until Sam's inevitable movements became too unbearable, he crawled underneath the covers and turned away from his little brother as Caleb switched off the light that stood between them on the nightstand. He didn't hold out much hope for him being able to survive until the morning, but he was willing to give it a shot.

Sleeping in the car had been okay, but hadn't been nearly as comfortable as now getting the chance to sink his body down onto a nice, comfortable mattress. Even though the comfort level wasn't as superior as back home, it was still something solid and warm as he closed his eyes, and tried to center his mind on something peaceful and light to finish the transition from _consciousness_ to _unconsciousness_.

To his surprise, he was able to fall asleep fairly soon after he laid down. Either it was because he had a certain, innate peace now that Caleb was back and things were slowly going back to normal in that department, or he was just too tired, but either way, he didn't fight it certainly.

He managed to sleep somewhat peacefully throughout the rest of the night with little interruptions from his brother who had been prone to disturbing him while he tried to find a somewhat comfortable position to rest his worn out body in.

The only problem that Dean had, was that the morning light came out far too early than he was comfortable with. It seemed that he had just gotten to sleep before the internal clock inside of him, was nudging him to full awareness again to greet the day.

Groaning in resistance, he stayed where he was, hoping that if he rebelled against the day, he would still be allowed to go back to sleep and dream of something that didn't involve guns and fighting and prisons. It had been a nice dream, too, and now his body was determined to end that for him.

Rolling over into a different position, he saw that Sam was still sleeping soundly. His chest rising and falling in time with his soothing breaths. Shaking his head in irritated disgust that Sam would be so lucky to still be resting, he turned over on his other side again, hoping that the change in position would satisfy that restless part of him, and grant him some more freedom.

"Morning," Caleb said, stirring in the bed beside him. "Sleep alright?"

Caleb knew what a difficult time Dean had in sleeping sometimes, and had offered to share with him, but Dean had opted to try sleeping with his brother, and had partially succeeded.

"It wasn't too bad," Dean said, not able to contain the yawn that escaped once he had started talking. "You?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question, knowing that Caleb probably had the most fitful sleep he'd ever come across.

"Slept like that a baby."

"I'll bet. What time are we leaving?"

"Pretty soon, after Bobby and Sammy wake up."

They wanted to make good time on getting the rest of the way to Colorado to search for the Colt gun. He hadn't seen the news yet, but he knew that by now, the prison guards had realized that he was gone, and would be staging an all out manhunt for him.

"Okay," Dean said as he stretched out the sore muscles that had been stagnant for so long from sleeping. "Do you think they're looking for you by now?"

"Probably," Caleb said with a shrug. "It doesn't make much difference when we're far and gone from that place."

"Yeah, I know," Dean replied, as he dug through his duffel bag for some day clothes to wear.

It was still something to be aware of as they traveled to different places to sleep. If anyone got wind of the fact that Caleb was hiding out at their establishment, they would call the police faster than they could blink.

"It will be fine. We just have to keep one step ahead of them if we can."

It would be easier said than done. Especially with the knowledge that they would have to be careful with who they put their trust in after Amber Barnes had sold them out to the police. Stretching himself, as he went to put on some clean clothes, Caleb grinned as he walked over to the couch where Bobby had camped out for the night.

Poking him with one finger, he was rewarded with his efforts when Bobby groaned, clearly close to waking up himself before Caleb had sped the process along. Blinking one eye open, he turned away from him, clearly not thrilled with the early morning wake-up call.

"What the hell do you want?" Bobby grumbled in irritation as he finally opened his other eye and sat up from his makeshift bed.

"It's almost eight," Caleb said, sounding just as thrilled as Bobby at the idea of getting back on the road so early. "I thought you said you wanted to get going by nine or so?"

"I did. Why are you waking me up at eight?"

"We still have to get breakfast and make sure everything is back out in the car," Caleb said, stating the obvious.

He didn't like it, either, especially when he was still recovering from his brief, horrifying journey back into the prison system, but if he wanted to avoid a repeat performance, he knew they needed to keep on the move until they found a secure location to hide in.

"Fine," Bobby said, after a minute of silent contemplation on the matter. "Do you want me to run across the street and get something from the diner?"

"Yeah, that sounds great," Caleb said, as he went over to Sam's bed to wake him up. "And I'll get everything moved and loaded into the car."

"Alright."

Sam wasn't too thrilled with being awoken again, but it was a necessary evil to be ready to go as soon as they finished eating and getting their stuff together. Usually a grouch in the mornings, Sam was surprisingly calm as he quietly packed his things like Caleb instructed.

"Did you sleep good?" Caleb asked, as he fastened his watch on his wrist.

"Yeah," Sam said, as he took a seat at the kitchen counter. "Can I have some coffee?"

Usually Sam was a ball of energy _without_ the added assistance of caffeine, but Caleb realized how tired he still was, and reluctantly obliged as he poured him a very small cup of it.

"Here you go."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Caleb knew they _all_ probably needed the extra boost the coffee would give them. Their main goal was to reach Colorado to look further into the legend of the gun, but the problem was getting there without being detected by the police.

Once Bobby got back with their breakfast, they ate quickly before packing everything up and moving it to their cars. The boys, still tired, weren't as fast as they normally were as they hauled their bags out to the trunk to deposit them in.

"You boys ready?" Caleb asked, as he swung his car keys around his finger.

"Yeah," Dean said, as he climbed into the front seat, propping his feet up on the dashboard to make himself more comfortable.

"How long will it be?" Sam asked, as he accepted his pillow and blanket that Caleb handed back to him.

"About seven hours," Caleb said, giving him a sympathetic look when Sam groaned at the thought of spending more immeasurable time spent in the confines of the car.

"At least it's not longer," Dean pointed out, turning around in his seat to look at the look that Sam had on his face. He was used to spending time in the car for hunting trips, but Sam hadn't been as used to it before now, and was struggling with overcoming some of the natural boredom that being in the car for long stretches, presented.

"I know," Sam grumbled, still not pleased, but also not in the mood to argue it.

"And you know what?" Bobby said, coming over to their car for a minute.

"What?" Sam said.

"Guess where we're going before we ditch this place?"

"Where?"

"Bill and Ellen's. They only live a few minutes from here."

"_Seriously_?" Dean said, not believing the fact that he would get to see their old friends. It was hard to see them regularly when they lived so far away, especially recently with having to go on the run, and the legal nightmare that Caleb had become embroiled in.

"Seriously," Caleb said. "I haven't seen them in a _really_ long time, and it would be nice to go there while we're still in the area."

"Yeah, I know."

Caleb hadn't been able to go visit the Harvelles the last few times Bobby had taken the boys, because of his various stints in jail. It would be the first time in a long time that he would get the opportunity to reconnect with them.

"So are we ready?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah!" both boys echoed.

* * *

It was exciting for Dean to go see their friends, especially with the knowledge that Caleb was now free to join them. Before, when he had been in jail and had been unable to go, the visit had held a bittersweet feel to it as he tried to enjoy himself, but was sadly unable to because of what was happening in his life.

The Harvelles lived on a decent size stretch of land that gave the kids plenty of chances to run and jump and be regular, hyper kids for once. They also had an above-ground pool that everyone took advantage of when given the opportunity.

For the adults, it would be a chance to put their feet up one last time before embarking on the remainder of their journey to Colorado, and to also catch up with their dear friends. For the boys, it would give them a chance to see Jo, Ellen and Bill's daughter, and burn some much needed energy from the breakfast they had devoured.

"Can we go swimming when we get there?" Sam asked, as he saw them pull off the freeway and onto the stretch of town that led to their friends' house.

"I don't know," Caleb said thoughtfully, pretending to consider the matter seriously, even though he already knew the answer.

"Please," Sam whined. "_Pretty_ please?"

"Yes, of course," Caleb said, rolling his eyes.

"Awesome!"

"Did you two bring your swim stuff?"

"Yeah," Dean said, "it's either in your car or in Bobby's."

"We'll check them both when we get there."

"Sounds like a plan."

The kids were both excited, nearly unable to contain themselves when Caleb followed Bobby through the impressed property and right up to the main house which was already surrounded by a powerful, intoxicating aroma of something cooking in the kitchen, which they all knew was Ellen's forte.

Bill, not to their surprise, was waiting for them on the front porch with his little girl, Jo, glued right to his side as they watched the small family get out of their respective cars.

"About time," Bill joked, as he went down to fully greet them. "I never thought you'd guys make it."

"We would have been here a _lot_ sooner had it not been for this one," Caleb said, jerking his thumb back at Bobby. "And his slow driving."

"Oh, please," Bobby said, throwing him a mock glare that made both the boys and Jo giggle, knowing that they each liked to push the others buttons. "I was going the posted speed limit-"

"Yeah, yeah. You drive like an old lady," Caleb said, looking pointedly at Dean, who nodded in agreement, a smirk firmly planted on his face.

"_Anyway_," Bobby said, "we were in the area and thought we would come by."

"Yeah, that's awesome," Bill said, nodding.

"I smell something good coming from the kitchen," Bobby commented.

"Oh, yeah. Ellen's cooking up a storm in there."

"She's making yummy treats," Jo said, speaking up for the first time. "And other stuff, too."

"Sounds great," Caleb said. "How have you been, sweetie?"

"Good," Jo said. "I haven't seen you in a really long time."

"I know. It's been too long, hasn't it?"

Jo nodded. "Yeah."

"What's been going on with you?" Bill asked, turning to Caleb as they started to walk into the foyer and through to the kitchen where Ellen was busy making their guests some food.

"Not too much. Escaped from prison, that kind of thing," Caleb said with a laugh.

"Seriously?" Bill said, stopping short.

"Totally. I was arrested on kidnapping and abuse charges, and then I was convicted of the kidnapping offense," Caleb said, recalling that horrific trial he had gone through that had resulted in his stunning conviction for kidnapping. "I was sentenced to two years in prison, and I escaped."

"That's _incredible_. They wouldn't listen to you?"

"Hell no. I'm public enemy number 1 as far as they're concerned," Caleb said with a scoff.

"But you're free now," Jo said, exchanging looks with Dean. "_Right_?"

"Yeah, I am. Hopefully it stays that way."

* * *

The lunch they had with the Harvelles, was one of the best they'd ever had. They ate it outside on the deck, and watched the boys and Jo as they swam in the swimming pool. It was times like this that Caleb missed the most, when life wasn't so complicated and they could be normal people for a change.

The boys immediately took advantage of the time they had in the pool, and used the hour or so they had to throw the ball around with Jo, and dive under the water for little objects that had floated right down to the bottom. It was something all of them had missed desperately, and something that Dean had needed to counter all the negativity that had happened in his life.

They hated to leave, especially when they didn't know when they would get the chance to come and see them again once they started searching for the gun. Hiding his true feelings behind a relaxed smile, Dean accepted the hug that Ellen passed over to he and Sam.

"See you two later," Ellen said. "Promise you guys won't be strangers anymore."

"We promise," Caleb said with a laugh. "We'll keep in touch."

"You better."


	21. Chapter 21

The driving seemed endless for both the boys _and_ the adults. It was only seven more hours until they reached the state of their destination, but that fact did little to soothe the boredom that had settled over the car. In particular, for the two boys riding in the front and backseat. Usually, they were good travelers, able to withstand even the longest drive, but Caleb knew that they were itching to get out and explore something for once.

He couldn't really blame them.

The search for the Colt had brought them to Colorado, the last known location for it. Some hunter was last known to be seen with it, and though Caleb knew that a variety of things could have happened between the last purported sighting and now, he wasn't one to laugh fate in the face and ignore it.

Turning sharply onto the next bit of highway that was hopefully the last leg of the journey, he looked behind him and saw that Sam was slumped down in his seat, engaged in some writing for his schoolwork, or just doodling a picture, he wasn't sure which one it was.

Smiling softly at the boy, glad that he was fortunate enough to be there with them again after so many weeks spent behind the stifling confines of a six by eight foot cell, he turned to his right, to the front seat, and saw Dean looking out the window at all the passing trees, farms and cars that passed by them.

He was quiet.

Of course, he normally _was_ unless he was anxious about something, or worried. Caleb was glad that he was getting this opportunity to spend time with the boys. It wasn't often that he was granted that unless they were switching up another motel room for another in their haste to outrun the local, sadistic law enforcement.

Once they got to Colorado, Caleb wasn't sure what their plan would be. It happened to be a huge state, and he knew that it wouldn't be easy to randomly guess which hunter had the gun in their possession, and then act accordingly with the information that was given to them.

Rufus would be one of their contacts during this trip. He was the one who had first supplied information about the gun, and would be the one who would help them reach further in their efforts to find it.

And once they did, Caleb knew they would have a powerful tool on their hands to help them rid the world of the demon that had killed Jim, and had played his hand in killing countless other people like him, especially Sam and Dean's mother.

Just thinking about Jim and how pointless his death had been, only made Caleb more upset, more angry about the demon's reason for killing him, to send a "message" to them. It was only one more reason to end it before anyone else got hurt, and when all was said and done, they could replicate the lost bullets, they would have a real killing machine on their hands that would help in ridding the world of just one more demon or monster.

"Getting hungry?" he asked, joking weakly when he saw Dean run his tongue over his lips.

"A little bit," Dean said with a sigh as he adjusted his position that he had been sitting with for quite some time. "When are we going to be there?"

"Less than an hour," Caleb said, checking the time on the computer. "Getting antsy to get out?"

"Yeah," Dean admitted, throwing him a glance. "I don't usually care about being in the car, but when it's for something really dangerous, and the cops are on to us, it makes it a little bit worse."

"I know," Caleb said, checking the rearview mirror on instinct to make sure they weren't being followed by anything—or anyone. He was an expert at correctly gauging which enemies were following them, and could identify even an undercover police car from a mile away.

Luckily, to his relief, the coast was clear for the moment. It was a constant game of cat and mouse, and knowing the game of how to elude them and stay even on inch ahead of them so they wouldn't find them and cart him to prison again.

"Do you know if they know yet?" Sam asked, speaking up for the first time from the backseat where he had clearly finished writing whatever it was he wanted to write back there.

"Oh, they do," Caleb said with a sigh. "I heard it on the radio while you guys were napping."

During the drive, the boys had both fallen asleep to the soothing, rolling motion of the car. While they had been out for the count, Caleb had taken advantage of the momentary silence to listen to the news on the radio to find out if there was anything he should be concerned about.

Not surprisingly, the prison was well-aware that he escaped, and was now staging a nationwide manhunt for the escaped felon. It didn't bode well for them when he knew they would have to stop somewhere eventually, but he and Bobby had a system that worked, and he was hoping they could continue operating under that.

"Seriously?" Dean said, twisting his body around in the seatbelt to fully face Caleb. "Do you know how close they're getting?"

"No, I don't, but we already know what we can do. It's not much in the grand scheme of everything, but it will do."

The trick wasn't even that big of a deal. It simply involved Caleb keeping as low of a profile as he could when they were forced to be out in public. While Bobby paid for their room, he stayed in the car and tried to appear as innocent as he really was, and only when Bobby gave the all clear, would he and the boys vacate their only source of protection and go into the room.

"I know, but what if something else-"

"Dean," Caleb interjected. "Everything will be fine. It won't be like last time. And even if it is, you know as well as I do, that we'll just get another person on the inside to help me out again."

Even though Caleb knew it didn't work like that, he figured that eventually the cops would get bored with arresting him, and find someone that actually deserved the torment and humiliation that being cuffed and searched presented.

"It won't be nearly as easy," Dean pointed out. "As it was, this last time, you had to sneak out in the middle of the night to avoid getting caught."

"And it worked," Caleb pointed out.

Barely, but it had worked. They had used a friend of Jefferson's to break him out, and the plan had gone off without a hitch. He knew their luck wouldn't always pan out like that when the law enforcement was concerned, but he was focused on the now of the moment, and keeping one step ahead of the police.

"I know," Dean said, nodding in agreement when he finally realized what Caleb was saying. "We just have to be careful, I guess."

"We do," Caleb agreed, as they finally passed through the cheery sign welcoming them to the state. "And we'll make it."

He had no idea how, but he knew they would. He knew it would involve keeping on the road for as long as they possibly could, and while that was something he never wanted for the boys, he was quickly realizing that they didn't have much of an option anymore, as he followed Bobby through some of the back roads once they got off the highway, in search of the perfect, secluded spot to crash in before starting their research.

Driving through small towns like that, made him nervous. It would be easy for some citizen to recognize him, and call the police, who would be there in a millisecond to arrest him and send him back to South Dakota, where he would be placed in a higher security building, thus eliminating the possibility of an easy escape.

"When do we stop?" Dean asked, sparing a glance at the motels that they passed.

He knew that they were looking for the right one. The one that was as far-removed from society as it possibly could be, and would offer them optimal privacy with which to start the hunt for the Colt.

"As soon as Bobby finds someplace safe."

It didn't take them too long. Once Bobby had pulled off the main drag, it wasn't that difficult to find a motel that would give them everything they were looking for. Following him into the near-empty parking lot, Caleb watched carefully as Bobby got out of his truck, and into the front office to pay for their stay.

Once he finally reappeared, giving Caleb the nonverbal signal that it was safe to proceed, Caleb and the boys got out and got their things from the trunk of the car. This was a routine that was becoming uncomfortably familiar to them, and that was what drove Caleb crazy, knowing how much they had had to give up because of the police and their sick campaign against him.

The room was small but cozy, enabling them to rest comfortably while they started their search. Following normal protocol, the boys settled their bags by the bed furthest from the door. A security measure that the guys had long ago instilled in them to protect and put up a wall against anything monster or human that might come their way.

"How long are we going to stay here?" Sam asked, as he sat down on the edge of the bed to get his shoes off.

"For as long as we need to," Bobby replied, looking up from the papers he was pulling out of his bag. "And as long as it's safe," he added.

If the police got wind of their location, he knew they would have to vacate the plan and travel to safer ground, but for the moment, he knew that they were find enough to focus their energy on finding the gun.

"What did Rufus say about the gun?" Caleb asked, rubbing a hand across his eyes.

It had been an exhausting drive, and though they had made it in relatively good time, it was still wearing to be driving for that long and then have to jump right into their sole reason for going to Colorado in the first place.

"He said that the legends that we know about, are true. It has the special bullets to kill any supernatural bad it comes across, and that it hasn't been seen in a hundred or so years."

"So how do we find it?" Dean asked, studying the hunter intently. "And how do we know it's even here?"

They could have wasted an entire drive to Colorado when the gun wasn't even there in the first place. He knew that it went deeper than that, but he was honestly concerned about exposing themselves so much when the heat was still very much on them.

"We look through all the back channels," Caleb said. "And Rufus said that the last known location was here, with some hunter. Did he say where this hunter was?" Caleb asked, turning to Bobby for answer.

"Up in the mountains a few miles from here."

"And what makes us think he's going to willingly hand the gun over?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. "He may need it for the same reasons we do."

Even though he wanted the gun and wanted their nightmare to be over with, he knew that this person probably wouldn't feel the same way and would resist handing it over, and in a strange way, he didn't blame them, either.

"That's true," Caleb said, "but, and not to be selfish, we need this gun too. We have a demon that won't stop looking for us no matter where we go, and if it continues, something else will happen eventually."

Sam had been kidnapped by the demon right after Jim died, and had spent nearly a week being carted from place to place in an effort to avoid being found by his family. It had been a traumatic experience for all involved.

"I know," Dean said, as he laid back on the bed. "So when do we knocking on the guy's door?"

"Soon," Caleb said.

"Like when?"

"Tonight."


End file.
